Another night another show

Remembering this Hollywood guru. His interaction with my drafts was pretty crazy. “I imagine they see through the show.” He said about my cousins. And at the time, the problem was, I had to put another person’s perspective above my own. It was a choice. That didn’t make any sense to me. What does that mean?

If he took a look in the mirror and thought about how he reacted to me —he would begin to get it. People didn’t get it. They treated me with disrespect at hello. I get that I was entertaining, basically. I open up, not you, it’s up to me to put on a show for you. That’s what you’re saying to me. You’re not sharing DETAILS such as that.

This guru, he mentioned some “one” girl he loved once, and I’m not prying… nor am I interpreting him. I suppose I felt his pain, and imagine if I said HALF the shit he said to me to him. There you go. Why don’t you meet a stranger, that would be “my homework” for him. And tell him, her, not just the most awkward thing that ever happened to him, but whatever — which he might not have, personally — is going to make him feel vulnerable. And this person is watching him, like he’s a TV show, and beginning to shut him down, beginning to analyze him as if he were a character on a TV show. That guy would never stick around for that.

I didn’t understand this comment. It’s a story about child abuse. I can’t talk about that. And will I get the chance not to write it but play it, because it was a dance: sure they were my cousins, but I spent a few summers with them — a few years. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate them, but they were not my family, you see? They were my cousins.And they shut me down — as many did — the second I started talking. Not Angela, but she’s not prying, she’s not getting involved. We had conversations… but all I had to say was “no.” I am not comfortable. And who would be?

And look, my cousins weren’t going to respond well to talk of child molestors. That’s obvious. No one does.

I still like the idea a lot, it’s not that, but when he said, “I imagine they see through the show…” what did that mean? I don’t think that would make sense to them. I felt put on display — yes. This guru doesn’t come from a story that automatically puts him on display. His whole concept of me was — so not me. And now, YUP, I’m pretty clear now — if a man, anyone, shut me down in a cafe, day one, and said, “no that’s not it.” I would say, I have to go now. “It was truly a pleasure speaking to you.” I would have left at hello. If not hello, most definitely after the first time we hung out, as he acted out in a totally deranged fashion.

Anyway, another night, got off early, waiting for the train. Thank GOD I feel like I’m totally clear of the guru, totally clear of all that logic that almost killed me. I learned hard lessons. Now, I have to figure out how to make money as I have none now. Should I stand on stage with a rotating hat? Cross eyed? Shall I meditate on 500k being delivered to me in cash? While I repeat “why are you CHOOSING to not have money.” Should I seemingly move through space ideating everything into existence I need — and then, fall back into the arms of many. Man how nice that would be.

Anyway, tonight, at this restaurant, I thought, even if I were to make 1 million on an advance which is… a lot, I couldn’t really stop working, you know? Not if you have a growth mindset. You wanna keep building. I just hope that I’ll make some break soon, so I won’t feel as much of a loser as I feel right now. And the thing is, I’m always happy. I always have been. Why that caused me problems, I don’t know, but at least I feel happy again. You see, the guru misterpreted my laughter… not to say I didn’t laugh…during that story…but I found it next to impossible to connect with that man, it was a wall. That triggered me. He’s THERE, you know. He’s not exactly the warmest person. Now, ME, Maria Mocerino in the driver’s seat, I’m not getting close to that person. He’s not that much of a conversationalist. Not that fun. I mean, very little of that was fun for me. That was not fun.

I didn’t actually want to get into that relationship. These were maladaptive patterns. And yes, they almost killed me. The guru was NOT someone to get close to. Casual. He can talk about his innards. I’M a safe person, that I know. I do not have superiority complexes, and it has nothing to do with what he’s achieved in his life, but he acts as if he has superior feelings… and he should really check that. I was manipulated, you see, very young. He totally misread me. He had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. I did not need someone to WRITE all over me.

So I walked through the streets free of him…free of his ideas… happy again. I had to lose everything, so that decade sucked, and all I wanted was…to write… I didn’t need all that. So that royally sucked. But I’m here now.

So this week, I’m going to go snag a job, try to, anything. I need a day job, even part time. I’ll keep my resto job for the moment because — the truth is — there is only now. In my opinion, that’s really the truth. Forget the future. It’s uncertain. I have goals, I have ideas as how I’d like it to go and end up, but I’ve let go of this obsessive thinking that the BOOK, there’s a REALITY in which the BOOK is the MOST massive success. Go into the world and carve your way through it. Who gives a shit about your feeling, to a certain point? You just keep moving. I did NOT want to be so feeling driven, that was incredibly maddening. I have NO idea… I hope I’ll be able to buy a house one day, figure out where abundance lies, and I’ll keep working on, writing, and exploring performing, more so than anything else, and I dream of being wickedly on the mark, that it will all blow up, it’s just, that gets unsatisfying because it’s all invented right now. I would rather keep moving through the present… and for the rest, I don’t know, so I’m here, that I know. So I have an income goal. I have a budget spreadsheet now. I HOPE that epic will take my story, but I don’t know, and I do not want to meditate on the probably reality that they are… maddening. I want it to get in, obviously, isn’t that enough? The idea that there’s “underlying idea that are holding you back,” I mean, maybe, probably, but it all sounds so complicated. I would like it to get picked, but the pressure is off. And if they take it, will it — be my big break? I mean??? That’s what I mean about the future being unceratin.

I am coming to love my little room, I am single, 39, I don’t know what to say about whether or not I’ll have children, but if I want to, I’m going to have to…get on that. I’m surprised by the choices I made, honestly, watching a group of girlfriends celebrating someone’s birthday. THAT’s the IDEA. Not some older guy, no offense, saying PARADISO at you 40,000 times. I was oddly focused. I got sucked into writing, my wheels spinning in place. So yeah, I have a little room, I’m decorating it bit by bit, and I’m excited to see where I can go from here, because at least, I hope, I went through or resolved what I needed — and I’ll create a life that makes me happy. I just want to meet my guy, I want to get married, that sort of thing. I want to buy a house. I’d like to do something that goes well, so I hope I do… but the IF YOU CHOOSE thing… Jesus, too triggering.

I was excited this evening because I have to work on my song list for this pianist im looking to try and get gigs with. All that, like, I hope the book does well, whenever that gets done. I’m not the most intuitive writer. Prose or words on a page is one thing. Writing is a formal exercise. I feel like I’m learning with this EPIC short. I just hope that’s true. And I hope I’ll transition into film and TV, as I think I’d like to go in that direction… that guru really really didn’t understand what he was doing to my heart… literally speaking. I just mean, he really really hurt my heart, literally speaking. You do not get involved with someone psychologically… outside of an appropriate container. What he did was unethical.

Anyway, one more early morning, and then, I’m off for the next few days. I’m going to try and find a day job, anything, so I’ll walk around, something, and see if I run into anything interesting. I sort of felt like walking around and thinking outloud, maybe walk into a shop… I don’t have any experience, but maybe I can snag a job, even part time. So I’m going to try that. I’m picking up plants tomorrow, as I’m trying to INVEST in my space, a little bit, my little corner. And I keep feeling better and better, I have rehearsal space on Monday, I’m doing a reading at Columbia, a scene from Pretty Woman, I’m Kit. Not Julia Roberts. Again, the YOU CAN MAKE IT, I don’t know that. That’s easier. I have to keep moving, I think, as if everything might not work out, because I always had the perspective that it was going to work out, and it ended up being stupid. I acted stupidly.

Night. I love my space heater. So now, the objective is: make money. Learn how to make money. There should be a way to generate real income, as I am not closed off, and build real wealth for myself, I keep saying that, I do keep trying to envision my ideal house. So that’s that. I’ll be 40 this month, I’m not where I’d like to be, but I’m feeling better.

I look red carpet events…and I go, okay, so the guru felt like I could make it in this way… he felt that I could become super famous. But everyone can. But what made me talented, didn’t matter. No worries. I don’t feel mediocre anymore, thankfully. I don’t feel broken down, but I’m free, I’m free of all that… the “channeling the audience” is getting better too. Just reaching for stillness and mental quiet. No future, no channeling. No more psychic. Now it’s a monologue / now it’s about turning these adverse experiences into something.

Again, everyone is evolved, but no one can apologize.

Ok I feel better

I don’t care— I did not need the Hollywood guru suggesting I wasn’t fed as a very young child “all the time” or something. I am pissed.

That being said, I am happier because I woke up feeling a bit supported here — from? I do not know, but I appreciate it. The ghost of Barbara Harris does as well.

I refocused a moment to just concentrate on taking care of my basics first, so I’m picking up a bunch of plants off Craigslist the next couple of days as well as a couple of pieces of furniture. I’m looking at removable wallpaper. I’m looking at my fire escape, thinking: plants, Christmas lights, an outdoor chair. I’m going to order some prints, a better table.

My EPIC short, I just spent some painstaking hours just reading what I’ve done, just trying to feel like I can actually make progress as I can’t structure anything, I find it difficult. But then, I just went scene by scene up until a certain point, not knowing quite where I’m going, but I’m just thinking about my pitch: this is the story of a girl…who investigates…her mother. And then, I think the obvious twist is “was that true?” In the end?

I think I’m in a better place with it. So I’m going to sit with the structure I started laying out, where I’m contemplating or analyzing this situation in the only mirror left from my mothers walls of mirrors, my working hypothesis as a young Sherlock meets Carl Jung, I guess, I’m going to have to think about that just because I don’t know if that’s the right reference, it’s just the one everyone knows. But it’s the basic idea.

I’m going to just stick to that for a minute. Like I guess I have ideas as to what where at the BH tennis club, which I thought would appeal to EPIC because my investigation took place at the Beverly Hills Tennis Club, which is a prime time spot, as a tennis match is happening on the main stage. I’m going to just keep trying to take it step by step now because I get lost and overwhelmed by a certain point, and I feel like I needed to remember what the drive is…

Which is — Dr. J. Did this happen to her? I’m studying child abuse, sexual abuse, specifically, if not incest in some capacity. Using my mother as a kind of mirror to illuminate psychology — not the mind. It’s structure. I think. I don’t know how to distinguish those two things, exactly, but I’m studying the psychology of the “little sex scandal,” I was in, which I’m calling it so I don’t get weird disappointed looks that it isn’t…………?? That bad????

I feel better about it. And I’ll see what they say when I’m done. Hopefully they go, “yeah cool.” I don’t know what to say about getting crazy inflated about it, in the sense, they’ve read all sorts of crazy ass stories. Though my mother was a psychological case. A basket case. ADDICT. Chose your word there. But it took me like a lot of time just to get the disbelief shit out of my head, like these two guys from EPIC (lol) reading this and going, “why are you doing that?”

“We believe you.”

I have to laugh. So I’m almost past that completely — like, leave me alone. That’s that. I still haven’t found another job yet, I’m not looking like crazy, but I hope something comes to mind, something. So here we go. Another night. Almost got this puppy off Craigslist lol.

Ugh I’m sorry I ever listened to that guy

I don’t know man, the guru told me to get on social media after I got out of a hospital. No one treated what I went through as real. It was such a nightmare. I wish so deeply that I had someone, anyone, who told me: traveling right now is not a good idea. So a river of tears.

Tonight, waiting for the A C E, at 2am, I buzzed around the restaurant just wanting to cry. I wish I never met that man. I wish he stayed out of my life. It was as if he wanted to ruin me, he sent me down the road to my doom, because he shat on my story, he acted as if he knew what he was doing, and he really didn’t. I don’t know why. Why he had to project all over me. I never said I was “the best writer ever.” I never thought I wasn’t special, you know, I just didn’t know why he spoke to me like he did. And so, tears. So many tears. Wishing — I never met him. I never knew him. He treated me with so much disrespect. I’m not a toy. He’s not a psychologist. What he did really ruined me to a point that I didn’t even think was possible. So I’m crying on the subway. That whole decade just destroyed me.

And now I feel like I was just a pretty young woman.

Share your story on social media, he thought, so I could attract a literary agent. Ugh, he suggested that I send an instagram profile to a literary agent, imagine? That story only brought me pain and weirdos. It’s like, why do people act like they are psychic? I don’t know. That’s how the guru acted to a creepy point. He was so creepy.

I was just a chick at a cafe. And I don’t think I’m selling myself short for saying that. I didn’t need someone like him, but at least this evening I’m typing without any noise in my head as that been an ongoing battle, because the logic I absorbed messed with my head. So I am alone in own head.

I think I’m done, I think I’m hanging up my hat. I did not deserve that man. I feel like I tried and I got eaten alive over a stupid book. And why these men thought I was so special I don’t know. I wish they went elsewhere. But then, no one would have listened or stayed. I’m so heartbroken.

So– I met a psychopath. Psycho-path. That’s his role in my life. And now, I’m going to let go of “my ability to be famous,” whatever that was. The merciless idea that this book was going to change my life, that I was going to be Harry Potter. I just didn’t need it. Why did he do that to me? Why? You know? I didn’t pry into his personal life the second I met him.

So — today is a river of tears. He hurt me worse than my parents. They were mentally ill. What was his excuse? It’s over. I don’t want to be a character on a novel. I don’t want to talk about my life, my childhood. This is wasn’t my problem. I didn’t think I was that special, come on. And I wasn’t against being THAT special, Jesus Christ! This guru was insane.

After years of just trying to work out my head, I just give up. Maybe it will be a simple life for me. I don’t know. Maybe I won’t amount to much I don’t know. But the story only brought me pain. I didn’t care that much. It happened a long time ago, you know, which is what people didn’t understand. At 30, guru, idiot, it’s been 26 years. That’s a long time. I’m not going to have the same experience of it as if it happened yesterday. And no, I’m not wrong, YOU are. I don’t know why the story in particular triggered people to tell ME I’m wrong about myself.

So I’m going to give this all up. I don’t need to make it. I mean, I’m mostly embarrassed. I’m going to keep getting into a rehearsal room, ill see what come’s out. But this path ruined me. This story only brought me disrespect. So that’s that. I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t care if I’m Lady Gaga. I’d rather find a man who just wants to hang out with me. Love me. Normal.

So I grieved tonight on the floor. I truly grieved. Nothing has worked out. And it’s funny to me, I guess I was pretty, but I’m just in sweats now. I wasn’t trying to be the prettiest person there, I don’t know how to frame that, because they guru was disturbing, confessing his love to me over a lost DVD while role playing some version of my father at the same time.

So adieu. I’m going to give this up.

It was strange being seen as remarkable because I had a personality

So I had an audition this morning for a short film at Columbia. Along the way I thought, should I go into psychology? I’m afraid, I really am because I have no savings, no career, now looking at reporter jobs, like I can’t change I wasn’t thinking properly, and the last decade sort of killed the desire to even try again. I can’t even afford my own place right now, and that wasn’t always the case. I read from Mullholland Drive and I put on lipstick into camera as a neat woman and then, a Joker. I feel a little better, I think it went well, I tried to distill my play for the camera, do less, so as Clooney does: eyes. Communicate with eyes.

I was down today, the past decade makes it challenging to move forward sometimes, where I still struggle cognitively, particularly when I write, like the future stuff, the channeling tapes I was given, I truly suffer because of it, and it’s taken me YEARS to work out of it. I would say I’m strong, but man, the entire event deeply bruised me, so.

I don’t know what to do, because I feel like I’m not qualified for any job, and I really don’t know what to pitch or even what I want to write about, so I feel confused, and I’m going to maybe shift gears. I might drop writing, actually, a moment, and prioritize making money, maybe online. I just didn’t want to be here, so I still feel tight and tense as I’m figuring it out.

I’ll keep moving these pieces I’m writing along, but I feel like a salmon swimming upstream, mostly, when I write, just because it’s very hard. Other people function. It works for them. It doesn’t work well for me. I’ll keep working on them…but I sometimes actually want to give up. Just give up this pursuit.

I’m just trying to learn how to be a person again… not a sci-fi character… that really hurt. I’m having a tough day. The downloading INFO from the future routine, it crowds my head, it affects my heart, so sometimes feel like such a mess. Where I can’t type and I want to break something because “the channel your audience” routine is — horrific. Please get out of my head. It’s like, a river of tears. Please go. I wasn’t even asking for this.

I liked being just a woman you know, who wanted to write a book. I want her back. I want to erase the past decade. I’m trying to get back to mental stillness, I just want to erase these men. It makes writing confusing, because these ideas affected my ability to think clearly. And the “reach out to the future audience” idea of these Da Ben tapes seriously seriously affected me. I don’t know why. But it’s just terrible. I cannot even think when I write… sometimes.

I’m in some tiny room, fearing I’ll never own a house, I won’t meet someone, someone who I genuinely love, because I feel, personally, that love actually is what makes life worth living, and it took me a lot to work out what matters to me, or to be able to even consider what it is that I want, what it is I’m actually attracted to, and so, I’m feeling like I unraveled, and I’m trying to just get to a place of acceptance, like this is where I am. This is where I live. I don’t have anything. I made my decisions. It’s fine, these three days are a little tense because I work in a capacity I don’t want to. I’ll keep telling myself “I can move fast.” I don’t know how exactly. Just craving something that works.

I didn’t need to be psychic, you see, that was a useless detour. I’m pretty much past that, I worked out that part, so no more psychic, please. I disagree. Fuck you even. The only piece I have to work out is the guru who still haunts me, the future is pulling words out of me…or needing support in this way. Like I need support. I really didn’t need this.

So the goal is nothing. No more future. No more audience. No more fantasy. No more need to make it, “become amazing,” according to this guru, as if I weren’t already. Like fuck you. No more. No more attachments. It’s truly terrible, this downloading future info, it truly left me in ruins. Now it mostly spins when I’m tired. If I get excited too. It’s strange to have met only enablers, you know, just because this causes me anguish because of my mother’s wild imagination — like the guru.

So I was a river of tears today, just trying to deal with words on a page that build to a conclusion. Simple. I wish the guru spared me, really.

That’s the goal: nothing.

I’m just a woman, first a person. A regular person who isn’t speaking to animals or whatever — just the craziest.

I'm going to throw myself a birthday party, and if no one comes that's okay

I hardly ever did that for myself, I don’t think I ever threw myself a birthday party. I’ve had a dinner, but my inability to totally recall speaks to how little I celebrated my birth. I suppose I wasn’t the type throwing “a bash,” but I’d like to, actually, now.

If I read that correctly, calling President Obama on the psycho spiritual plane, Tina Turner threw herself a party and no one showed up? Is that even possible? Isn’t Stevie Wonder there by default, or something? I would be, hilariously. I would be at Tina Turner’s birthday, sitting there with presents and flowers.

My 40th is coming up next month, so I’ll try and throw myself a birthday party. My friend Jo is trying to find a venue for hers, as she wants to pay for her guests, so she wants to find a spot where she can pay in advance, but finding an inexpensive location, on Friday night, is proving to be difficult.

I remember talking to her ex-girlfriend when we were just turning 30, and I walked out into their living room, because he was about to turn 40, so I wanted her advice or wisdom from that point, ten years later. “40 is coming…” that’s all she said. “40 is coming…” like, she got we were 30, “but 40 is coming…” and I remember how much I appreciated her 40th, she was full of joy, at a really great point in her career.

No one weird wanted to help her “manifest realiiy…” but she had her own demons, let’s say, or problems, I don’t know how to put that, but I felt like I tried really hard in my thirties, and particularly in those first couple of years, they just set me up to go in a terrible direction. That guru, you know, the Hollywood screenwriter, that was an act of total lunacy, what he did.

As I’m working on “a sports coach” character right now on the open mic circuit, which I like, because I can develop it, maybe make a Barbara Harris reference, not literally, but end on a vulnerable note or explore different colors, so it might have some heart in it as sports inspire that… again, I don’t know what to show about a show yet, but I could probably transition movement wise, poetically, after whatever that bit is. I’m telling you, this Hollywood screenwriter…

When I look back at DAY ONE, today, I’m already never seeing him again. Pointing at me across the room as if he were a SCI FI character, for real. “Knooooww what do you wannna knooowww…” and it was the intense BREATH in he took too. That was a total creep! I didn’t see that. There are mental health issues between him and his brother, which is pretty clear. I just say beware, because he shouldn’t be introduced to young, attractive women? Especially if they have any vulnerability.

Wow, he disrespected me, put me at risk so he could fluff his own feathers, that was of a deranged masculinity and femininity that I myself don’t know what to do with, because I’m still shocked that I was there to begin with. I’ll skate into that…character, I’m going to impersonate him most definitely and as Jim Carrey knows, in that arena, the goal here is TRUTH, accuracy, the right rhythm. It’s not cariacture, it’s character, this is what I saw, observed, this is how he acted. Absurd.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to try and write a PLAY about these years on Miracle Mile, which I could, I could re-read Arthur MIller, and begin with a little girl busting through some woman’s door as she’s screaming in Brazilian. Tripping over her six children’s names. Just doing the first scene, like I get there, and when the little girl runs to the plum tree, that’s where something happens… like me, the narrator, begins a monologue, something. I suppose I could begin smashing barbie heads in front of a TV, it just depends… but for the moment, the easiest approach to take is — just me.

And just like anything else, it doesn’t have to be the end all of what I do, I just need to do a show. I could do a series of characters… cutting through this business, the NFL coach (or is he basketball? I don’t know) he’s going “alright,” picking up his pants, and getting ready to deliver me the direction I needed… I don’t know about “end,” or anything like that, and I feel like I’m a strong mover, but I will have to work on my physicality to be able to move in slow motion… which I can, but I have to work on — I have plenty of ideas. Remember The Giver? When he sleighes out of the distopia through the snow… yeah, there’s something about finding the exit that might resonate well. I’m just having fun, wishing I had a job, my own place, that I felt better off from that basic standpoint…

I had to reach within for resources to continue — especially blast — with superhuman powers, lol, picturing someone like Ed Norton, I don’t know if he ever played a wizard, but just someone unexpected…standing there. Something isn’t right here. But since these weirdos spoke about me as if I were supernatural, for real, I had to BLAST this Bowser, guru, away. His entire approach was off. I had to reprogram my head. I had to work out that relationship, those ideas, I didn’t need to meet him, at all. Not unless I was abused as a four year old. So that’s his legacy. I look at him, and I go, was that true about my father? Forget the food. This man became OBSESSED with me being FED. It was quite disturbing. That was a dark man.

There was a lot of darkness there. Remember I’m inserting Obama, President Barack Obama into this time, these conversations, I’m picturing him sitting there with us, like a magical guide, and not knowing what to say most of the time. He’s just turning to me, like, uh, how did you not see this? Why are you hanging out with him? Well, honestly, that first night we hung out, what he did — shocked me, stunned me, disturbed me, but I had been so disrespected, you see, and people have had weird responses to me, that I found myself unable to recognize RED flags.

If he were to POINT to — I had to put different attractive women in that chair — one’s that even understand the WEIRD shit that can come with SOMEONE specifically being attracted TO YOU, like this is NOT my problem. If you also would trash me? Say I’m not attractive? Or get all fucked up about it ? Annoying. I’ve had relationships where I’m not entirely sure if I’m attracted to them…? So that’s a “Getting to know” how I feel about that person…which in my case, I’m giving myself the space to re-negotiate what I am attracted to… that’s changed. In any case, I did not need this guy, and he fit in like a GLOVE with these plant people I ended up meeting, just thematically. I met UNREAL people. I ended up in outer space. This man’s GENIUS BROTHER — he told me in the first 20 minutes that “in th 15th century I would have been the one to speak to animals…”

Not a compliment. That was — weird. In public, I think, that sounds extremely weird. And no offense, the sports coach in me, waving to you, I have no idea why I would allow anyone to speak to me like that. But I became psychic, you see, and even these two weirdos in LA could SEE it before I spoke, practically. So now I was getting HIT by two different groups of people telling me that I was PSYCHIC THE MOST PSYCHIC MORE PSYCHIC…

If I may.

Boundary issue.

WTF was this supposed to do for me? Would you want YOUR daughter in these circumstances? Being insulted. Being manipulated or…would the GURU want his daughter to meet HIM? That’s a no. There’s nothing — I’m pretty sure, tuning into President Obama, he would not appreciate these men at all. I’m sure he would be confused, but he’s not a woman, first and foremost. If someone were to give him channeler tapes, think about it, or tell him he was psychic, in the trajectory of his life… I think he would leave. in his case, I don’t think that would be hard. “Thanks,” he has real shit to do. I don’t think anyone would dare to talk like that to Obama. I needed someone of his stature and authority, a politician, seriously. I thought, what would Obama say to that? He wouldn’t approve of any of it.

To President Barack Obama, I have to imagine, that if he were to watch how the guru really acted, that he wouldn’t understand WHY this man was acting like that. Why is he acting like a superior guru? Obama? As the former president of the United States, I doubt he would ever be so strangely arrogant, like he believes he’s really a wizard, you see, which Obama would be able to SEE, see what I mean. “Why is that man acting like Gandalf?” What makes this guy so superior and wise? Because he spends time meditating? It was all a ruse, that’s what it really felt like. Like, in fact, I got involved with the Wizard of OZ (he’s in Beverly Hills). And peering through this…time I spent with him, I’m confused as to WHO he thought I was.

I got that I was “SPECIAL,” that just sounds creepy. The whole thing. SPECIAL how? There were enough outtings we had to PROVE that we had a weekly lunch date. That we spent TIME together. This is another reason why I went PUBLIC. Because we were in public. What were you doing? And just like my mother, I would be fascinated to see how this guy would appear in public. Would he deny everything he did? His beliefs? He would sort of have to. Except I know. Would his brother… lie? About his beliefs? It’s these points I seek to make. If you can’t be PUBLIC about it, why are you bothering me with it? Do NOT tell me that “the world…”

Not my bag.

Did I NOT already come from a controversial background? It’s practically textbook. This guy got a hard-on, over some young woman… writing a book about that background, it’s textbook. I was reading about EPSTEIN, the girls who ended up in his orbit — they all came from backgrounds… that made them VULNERABLE. It wasn’t THEIR FAULT, they did NOT WANT TO BE lured. A rich fucking weirdo with his little helper targeted, I don’t know if they were even totally privy to this? UNFORTUNATE women. Girls. Those who came from — and I grain away — because this isn’t my CASE, which makes him look like an even bigger lunatic, impoverished backgrounds or low income families where they might have been abused. I came from a background that made me vulnerable.

Which is the quality that he even noticed in me — idiot.

For a GENIUS, right? Because this person (next to OBAMA?) another one of these GENIUSES who next to OBAMA look a little funny, they look a littlte ridiculous. Obama, even, is probably not ACTING like a genius, or something, you know? He doesn’t seem like he’s in outer space. Thinking his GENIUS gives him the RIGHT to disrespect people? He would be appalled, I think. Right? So WHATEVER these weird ass dynamics were, my parents were the fucking weirdest. And there they were, a few weirdos. So I met a GURU. And I will be making it very clear, very clear that what he did was weird, because all I have to do is present what he did in PUBLIC. That takes care of it right there, because I did feel manipulated by this person. He KNOWS he’s manipulative, I’m pretty sure.

If he’s attracted to someone, which he doesn’t want to be, for the sake of an innocent person’s life, he should go in another direction… if this woman causes him… I don’t know. I do not know what the point of this was, but that stupid story, which he stupidly didn’t even HEAR, meaning, I was in a SEX SCANDAL you idiot not some SAPPY story where my mother “gave me away to a total stranger…” not if you’re LISTENING. So he and his brother look — like idiots. His brother told me about a crazy lady who calls him for advice? Uh huh, got the picture. I do not know what to say about their sister, but introducing me to him was A BAD IDEA. Keep him away from pretty but most importantly vulnerable young women.

The manifestation shit, in their case, that was — a boys passtime, I’m sorry, in their case? I didn’t need to get lost in esoteric land. I get that they don’t really need to work, that they are rich, or something? I don’t know what to say there, but um, wow, I couldn’t meet ONE normal, you know? Now I got Linda back, at least. So I had to work out basic gears in my case, I mean general life directions, like, you wanna make real friends, go out, meet people, not spend time with… people like that. You wanna get a job, you want to BUY A HOUSE. I thought “everything was going to be fine,” so I had that attitude, but that wasn’t that sensical. WHAT are you doing?

So I look back at these men with a deep regret, because they striped me of my power, which, uh, looking back, might have been unconscious, but thoroughly unappreciated, as I HAD money, maybe not MILLIONS of dollars, and I ended up in circles who only saw my lack. Why I went in that direction at all, I can’t say, but I had a terrible childhood, I look back at “all these mothers” in horror. Especially my 2nd surrogate mother, that was — an adult looking BACK—bizarre. As my own advocate, WTF happened? I was eight, nine. I just got out of a sex scandal.

I’m telling you I ended up getting so angry at all these people, acting as if my mother wasn’t a COMPLETE lunatic. The Zen Master Sybil? If my mother was “coming for my graduation,” that would be a dark day for her, if I were in her care. She would EXHIBIT what she meant by — WHERE THE FUCK have you BEEN? She would have blown that woman away. You see the difference? IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE CONTENT MA’AM — GO AWAY. THAT goes across the board. If you CAN’T HANDLE THE CONTENT — get someone who can.

My father’s “secret illness,” Jesus, it sounds so… bizarre, doesn’t it? Him getting diagnosed with PARKINSON’S first, and not telling anyone, according to his doctor, which my 2nd surrogate mother knows. SO FOR TEN YEARS, wake up bitch, I was living with a deranged sick guy. UNBELIEVABLE. And then, it’s Alzheimers…. when it comes to that guy, my father, I have no idea what I’m looking at. My Italian friend was quick on the draw: do you think that’s true, she received me when I was extremely fragile, but she was at least able to provide me a space, in that way, come on. It’s completely insane! I could hardly talk I would start to panic, so I had to take it easy, because panic can be maddening, I felt like I was in danger.

So again, to my FRIENDS, those who shut me down, it’s not a “maybe we can revisit… our friendship…” if MY friend were at all in this situation, I would NOT have responded like ANY of them. I went through agony for years. And this sexual trauma specialist he has no clue…where it happened? Now, I look at these men I met this past decade, and they don’t look SAFE, (Obama would be 100% behind me sitting at the Carlyle Hotel now, like, what are you doing here?). Particularly, given HOW they viewed me, a bit hard to tell. Um, not knowing what to do with this, as I wasn’t poor, um, that’s awkward, I went to good schools? Peering through this… and WHAT exactly where they interested in? WHY were they there? WHY are they seeking to “HELP ME” befriend me, WHY? With President Obama there, even in my mind, it’s very healing, clarifying, because what would these men say to HIM? He’s 100% on MY SIDE, that I know. WHAT IS GOING ON?

I needed a MAN, yes, specifically, as these were MEN: what the fuck is going on? Dave Chappelle, I would bet 100 dollars on it, you don’t tell him ANYTHING. He’s going to see SLYTHERINS, right away. “Is that a slytherin?” Truly! He’s going to see that, I really had to believe he would acknowledge that this man looked like that. It’s as if, picturing the two of us discussing this, it’s as IF he could be a Gryffindor, but he’s not, or he’s got a complicated profile there. It’s nothing against him, but that set up, given my background, didn’t sound like a good idea. Someone who… might be triggering FOR ME before I HAD AWARENESS that I even had triggers. And unfortunately, I needed assistance in the DIRECTION they took me, like, “not the time to get closer, the trigger is supposed to help you to STEP BACK.”

We are talking about my parents you know. So that was fucked up. That we know, like this hypnotherapist said. Anyway, I need to get more active, I mean, social. I need to plan some dates for next week. What the guru did was STRANGE. I want him to feel that somewhere out there… I want his world to KNOW. Like, when he was talking about “the one woman he ever loved” once, one of these… vague comments as he was extremely vague… that he saw her kiss another guy? He wasn’t talking about me, right? Just because one of his younger male friends and I hung out a second, no biggie. I don’t know WHAT that was, given how he acted. Was he in love with me and I didn’t know it? There was nothing romantic…

Now, I had no idea if I was in SOMEONE else’s STORY, where he’s COMING AT ME with GURU pointer fingers, luring me to talk about my mother? My pain? Now I look back at this exchange in horror, WHY is this happening??? WHY are you taking advantage of me? I do not KNOW you. It sounds BAD. NOT nice. He’s then creating problems like the disappointment between my father and me is…holding me back? Is some deep idea? I mean, WHY am I here to begin with? I was JUST IN A CAFE WRITING A FUCKING BOOK. THEN over a LOST I-TANYA DVD, he’s going to ROLE play this version of my father, claiming that the LOST DVD is a psychological set up (Picture a BOY playing ZELDA) to DISAPPOINT HIM, but EMOTIONALLY and DRAMATICALLY, same DEEP DEEP BREATH, strange, he confesses his love to me…on a street. (Again, Obama, picture him.)

“You cannot disappoint me you have my loooooove.”

Does, I wondered this about my mother too, Weinstein too, and I know people have lost their minds, that people have had crazy convos with people. Women too. Like, where is this even coming from? But WHAT was that? WHY am I getting manipulated? Or psychoanalyzed over a DVD? I feel like a victim, I do not know of what, but WHAT was this????? I’m just CONFUSED, you see, just CONFUSED, like I don’t know what I’m LOOKING at. “You’re special,” he takes a SUPERIOR stance, MANIPULATOR, “and he intends to KEEP his perspective,” as if HE THINKS I do not think I am special. HE THINKS I DO NOT believe in myself as an artist, though, at the beginning, there was NOTHING I was doing that would SUGGEST that I didn’t BELIEVE in myself? That I needed a GURU? Like I was on the Hero’s JOURNEY? I was CONFUSED. Lost.

And to this guy, I’m telling you, he really pissed me off, beyond being NICE or QUIET about it. I had been MANIPULATED when I was very young, and maybe my mother was like him, someone who needed psychologists, assistance, who was a bit ill there, you know? Because, wow, it broke my heart, to hear his brother tell me of the time he took his own hand and started punching him with it, “why are you hurting yourself?” Because his brother delivered this to me as if it were wise… that’s a boy to watch, discipline, I don’t know actually, I don’t know what to do with that, because it’s disturbing behavior. I wondered if Dr. J burned bugs or did weird things as a child. That was WEIRD. And with sandals, maybe I should descend upon the scene, ripping robes off my figures: Mary, Jesus, (insert joke here), to arrive…a person. This guru said, “you were born to parents who were not there,” since he started mentoring my DRAFTS? ABORT. “Sounds divine to me…”

That was his sole comment. Like, no offense, I got off this call, I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW —some — people TALK about me, a SIGN to GET NEW FRIENDS. WHAT made me DIVINE? Can you imagine? This guy talking to Foster Care? I thought he would make a good new villain, just like my mother. Getting “pupils,” or fishing for people in foster care… “you are all divine…” imagine? WHAT is anyone supposed to do with that? It’s as if, in a shitty draft? Your parents weren’t even there. That’s a bit of an obvious statement? His comments about my drafts were even disturbing. WHY was he engaging with me at all?! HOW was this supposed to help me? It was as if he were really trying to KILL me. For real.

THAT was DARK. I could shoot him dead, practically. I get out of the hospital, and this man, who acted as if he didn’t need to ASK a question, he just KNEW everything, truly!!! I hardly SPOKE to him during this time, and he says, “what you went through,” like YOU GOTTA PUT YOUR FEELING away because you might KILL someone, “reminded me very much of Carl Jung’s The Red Book.” WHY IS HE SAYING THAT? He was insane. If he were to OFFER me money, I would take it. To that point. He royally royally fucked up. Now, in front of a JURY, if we were in that context, I would be REITERATING that I came from a BACKGROUND!

“What’s HIS excuse?”

And a JURY would hear me. I would need to bring in a psychologist, a real one, several, to basically communicate what that means. INSANE. I would BLAST I do not even CARE ANY talk that this was my FAULT. The Seth books, picturing him running scared? Hiding his stupid Seth books. Let’s pick out a couple dangerous phrases from these… lines. Let’s us begin— a woman doesn’t want to be RAPED, and I will refuse to listen to ANY of this kind of talk. NOT ON A META LEVEL.

Time to wrap it up boys, time to wake up.

So I’m just nodding, like, okay, so I GUESS, looking at some of the community members, if you would, of Beverly Hills, okay? Eddie Murphy, the cop, the joke, hilariously. I’m going, “okay,” if you succeed in life, not really understanding why I missed that, it doesn’t mean you’re a real person, it doesn’t mean you’re safe, it doesn’t mean you’re SANE, even. You undertand? What he did was INSANE. And A JURY is going to LOOK at me and go, “my PARENTS were INSANE.” You know? I didn’t see this coming at ALL. And then, forget it, this EX of mine brings me into…a GROUP that’s ALREADY controversial. It doesn’t look good.

Yikes, I really didn’t understand, I really wasn’t expecting all this, like, I wasn’t expecting to open up a book about my life with all this shit around me, and come to question what happened… my mother’s cruelty speaks for itself. She has BLATHERED ON to enough PEOPLE, with Instagram messages being sent to me, screenshots, to PROVE me right. What is she doing? Dr. Joyce Rebhun. What I want to know, personally? I want to KNOW what happened at the POLICE STATION OVER AND OVER AGAIN as she was THERE over and over again…

You see. I want to KNOW WHO GHOMI IS, you see, a man who used to work for the government? Is that correct? Obama was instrumental on the psychospiritual plane in encouraging me to ASK that question DIRECTLY. HE, Obama, worked for “the government” if we remember… so he made me laugh in my mind, just taking in my utterly insane family. WHO IS THAT GUY? WHAT IS MY MOTHER’S BUSINESS? She works every day, no??? She’s CAPABLE of WORKING every day??? I have real questions for this lady. (So does JUDGE JUDY, I assure you.)

SO, you see, fuck my friends, no offense, I came OUT of this situation, with some visuals of my parents — not knowing what the fuck this was, both of them. Because that was a RIDE I came to WAKE UP TO, holy shit. WAS THAT TRUE? I mean, i spent a SUMMER INSIDE Rosa’s ROOM. No, I didn’t want to GO OUT FOR A DRINK, evidently. I was DEALING with dreams every now and then… just please. Where I would have to walk for hours… not knowing if I had been abused… okay? With no ONE to TALK TO. This fucking idiot hypnotherapist telling me that “having a bunch of characters in your head is a gift,” OKAY, it’s NOT. I was a goddamn mess. These fucking people, I’m telling you, telling me I have GIFTS…

In the strangest directions. I don’t know about how I was impacted, okay? But I did not need CHANNELER tapes. Looking at the BEVERLY HILLS backdrop! I truly!! M. Night Shyamalan. It was a goddamn M. Night Shyamalan movie. It was insulting, embarassing, degrading. And, hilarious, in the end, none of these people got that I was in a sex scandal, amazing. Utterly amazing. I BEGAN, in Hannah Arendt’s perspective, I think, in OUTER SPACE which is where I ended UP. My NFL coach, right, squatting down, “hey there cutie,” chuckling, “small girl, tiny person, with curls? What the fuck are you doing?” Little lady, “you are in TROUBLE.”

He would be — through the NOISE, the GIANT MEATY BODIES, he would not even know what this PLAY was, “wtf is this?” What’s the POINT, meaning the GOAL? That I BECOME someone? FAMOUS? It’s called GET A JOB, a MAN, A GODDAMN HOUSE with a GODDAMN DECK! GET A BBQ. GET FURNITURE. HOLY SHIT. I WAS A STAR WHY? What the fuck is this OBSESSION??? With STARDOM??? I could — RIP these people a NEW one.

Imagine? A NFL coach, taking in SOME girl, some confused girl as GIANT BODIES are WORKING OUT, practicing… that I was TALENTED, AT WHAT? THAT I COULD BE AN NFL PLAYER BECAUSE THERE ARE NO LIMITATIONS TO THE SELF. Now that, cracking up, “you’re never going to be an NFL player, hunny, you would be killed, rather quickly.” It’s a sweet idea though. A bit insane. WHY this guy did what he did, I do not know.

But what we do know, I had quite an affect on WEIRDOs. Not to say I wasn’t beautiful, but LOOK, President OBAMA once again will back me up, I believe, having needed to reach out to him, a father, on the psycho spiritual plane. He’s not going to SEE RESPECT at any point here. That, I was pretty sure of. I was not a toy. I needed to take myself seriously, I guess, I just gravitated or ended up attracting… you know, I woke up, or it felt that way, over time. I realized, 7 years into living in Paris, that I had felt time bend, when I was nine, and that’s why I decided to live here. You see? Already, another, what? I had an experience I couldn’t explain.

And that time had an enchanted quality to it, where the clock struck twelve, even, it was… for me, a moment, because my time in France was coming to an end, which is when this ex of mine came into my life, with drugs, right? Which is when I moved back… I moved into my adopted family’s house… and Obama is chill, he’s… walking with me, in my mind, through all this, taking a seat. Again, it’s the public eye thing. Where I just began to consider all that, them, from that standpoint. My ex brother in that family, well, he most certainly showed his colors as well. His crazy colors, a man who was also supposedly in love with me — the entire time.

This BIZARRE love shadow, IN MY FAMILIAL relationships, scared me.

THANKS.

Really.

And you wanna know WHY I don’t wanna talk? That goes for my adopted mother…

That got a little fucked up. Didn’t need that. And go ahead, tell someone in public about “the dog bite.” I’ll let you go first, even, please do. Strange because, maybe I could bring back the — the Lecoq piece we did, where we moved through a city… I remember backing up, slowly, and JOS pointing at me, like that’s good. In slow motion. I like moving that way. Just backing up… away from my whole life.

Only because, the Giver isn’t bad as a reference, because it LOOKED like a Utopia, even, it LOOKED one way, but it was really… something else. And in my case, the town was the public stage, the light… BECAUSE WHY WOULD I CENSOR MYSELF? I have nothing to hide.

Wow, “Mr. Obama,” I would say, (I’m laughing,) “wow, I learned a lot.”

(It just makes me laugh.) It did help me, actually, to seriously consider what President Barack Obama would have…said to all this. I have to try, because Dave Chappelle talked about how everyone is obsessed with celebrities. Not me. I HAD to, reach out to the celebrities on the psycho spiritual plane. I had to. In my case this was neecessary. I needed their encouragement and protection. Like, I felt like what I was saying might sound really really crazy… to some of these people. Like Quentin Tarantino is like, WHO was this guru? WHO? You gotta tell me. Oh my GOD.

No? WHY did the teacher, this teacher, go after Amy Griffin? Why would he do that? I could ask THIS guy the SAME question. EVERYTHING sounds different, in public, whether or not anyone cares is one thing, but it still does. SO, THAT’s REALITY to ARENDT, just to make sure the true genius in this mess is accounted for. “There you go.” In PUBLIC, it sounds different, you can’t just say shit like that. I mean, you can, there is channel 40, mystics, I mean, everyone is out there… actually. But it DOES sound different. I mean, again, the comedy stage to me — is a truly public space. It’s the town square, it’s political, it’s where you speak out, make people laugh, sure, where you point out crazy crazy truths, I mean that’s the space to me. Because me as an NFL coach, I think it works. Again, there are all sorts of comedians, if I end up doing characters, something closer to theater… I do not see anyone having a problem with it. The COMICS don’t care. They truly don’t.

“Watch this person.” They’re just giving me resources. I don’t know how to tackle the crazy stuff, right? And all the while, I established CONTACT with Jim Carrey on the psycho spiritual plane, telling me INDEED I can MANIFEST whatever I want to, meaning, get to NETFLIX. Tell your story. Anyhoo, I’m trying to say that I was in a sex scandal, and the comedians aren’t RUSHING me, and they don’t know exactly what happened yet, but five minutes… so I’ll try out a movie preview voice, Pablo Francisco, a well written movie preview… with twists and turns and confusion… played by, a collective GRAINING AWAY from ACTORS on the psychospiritual plane. But I’ll try a movie preview voice, I just don’t know if I’m supposed to DROP the joke, because it wasn’t a JOKE. I still don’t know how to navigate through that, but if Mae Martin is doing “tragicomedy,” if you catch my drift, can’t I exist in this space? With Angelica Leibowitz, I’m going to have to see if I can — force you to laugh, or provoke laughter because she was truly hysterical… I don’t know this animal yet. What I know…when I act… I make people laugh… so I might be more successful in that space. I don’t know. Storytelling too, I don’t know.

But I came this far so I might as well give it a go.

Anyway, I feel much clearer being in public. I am not afraid of the questions, you see, I am not afraid here. I know what happened. Anyone listening to this story in PUBLIC, isn’t going to know either. I suppose it takes a second to come up through these channels, I mean, I’ve only just begun. I’d love to be an overnight sensation, sure, but that’s slightly untrue, typically, so I have to…keep doing shit on “cable,” which is what my Instagram feels like right now: cable TV. That’s what it looks like.

Cable TV. Except I gotta make sure the ANGLES are right. I’m in good lightning. I like Westside Comedy Club for that reason. Good lighting. I gotta GO to comedy shows. I have to get out there… but I’m not getting the vibe that I don’t belong there, even if laughter is another subject. To be honest, sometimes, I don’t even know why people are laughing at what they laugh at, no? Isn’t that a funny part of this experience? But if everyone is being molested, yikes, I hope I can… speak for all of us, nodding, not knowing WHAT TO DO with what I’ve been TOLD.

Look, no psychologist, I don’t think, is going to tell me that “no, it didn’t happen,” or that, my experiences might not be correct, no in this case. So I feel better, though there’s nothing I can do with the changes I’ve experienced in my personal life. I’m not getting the impression that I’m supposed to go, “okay, cool, no worries.” I’m getting, this might be a goodbye. For better or for worse, the shaman did say, just because you forgive someone doesn’t mean you have to remain in contact. In some cases, it’s goodbye. That’s how I feel in some cases.

So I think I’m going to try and hit up some more open mics today, or maybe, I have to go food shopping, and take care of some basics, but maybe I can go a little later, and keep working my NFL coach character. “It was all wrong.”

Anyway, I have no idea what to do, still. I don’t know what job I can get right now, so hopefully I’ll find another writing job, I have two but they don’t pay anything. They do, but not. I look at reporter positions, like, I haven’t been in a newsroom. I don’t KNOW anyone, the basic piece of advice to GIVE not keep to yourself… so I don’t know what to do exactly. I wish I could find a job that makes sense. That would be a good idea. I’d like to go into film, I think, entertainment, so I don’t know what that means, if I should try and get a job in that arena? Or, in book publishing? Something that would actually help me to meet people, you know what I mean?

Or I just…cruise, just stay where I’m at for a moment, because I don’t know. I would send out applications, searching for anything, like it doesn’t matter…or think about what I’d like to do? Or something. FAMILY was definitely not it, guru. But, it’s like, should I read Atlantic family to see what kinds of articles they write? Since he wanted me to go in that direction… which was another trauma cycle, thank you. I’ve been through that one enough. Anyhoo, I do not know, so I’ll keep figuring that out.

I need to go out more, get drinks with friends, put myself out there, which I will, but I’m trying to balance continuing to write, which is time consuming, setting my basic operation up, and just getting back to a normal life…with this added piece of performing, so I’m not going out as much as I’d like to. I find that my work week is tiring, but 3 days a week is better than 4, so I end up not prioritizing socializing, which I have to do. Go to meet ups. That will all happen, I’ll keep finding my groove. I’d like to meet someone I could be with, a man, yes. Whoever HE is, he would not be anywhere near these men. That’s for sure.

Again, I’m not sure if drugs were a good idea in my case. I mean, these types of substances. I should have been treated seriously, honestly, with care, given my background, and I wasn’t. So, there goes… respect, and apparently, they all felt I was “a beautiful woman,” interestingly enough. Weird.

I’m going to a concert tonight with this lawyer I started seeing, recently, which is a nice development, so we’ll see how that goes. No pressure there. I don’t think. I’m still dealing with… some fears there, like PLEASE do not be crazy. But already, he’s just a guy, who invites me out on dates, that’s clear. He’s not FEEDING ME, as this guru claimed to be doing, terrifyingly, he was terrifying. I think, in thinking about people in my life, placing them in these situations, I feel supported, in speaking like this, a total lunatic. Feeding me??? WHERE on earth, it’s the same question as Amy Griffin, WHERE does he think that’s appropiate? To speak to a grown woman… like that? A woman who’s supposedly “befriending?” Extremely weird.

And then, I got weirdness coming from this guy. Do not even get me started on this guy. Hannah Arendt, truly, in sitting there with this person — that’s all I needed to imagine. What is going on? What are you doing? Who is this person?

Another one these days, where I feel like evacuating in the morning, because I really want to speak out. As SOMEONE who came from a sex scandal when they were a four year old. Okay? This guru manhandled my story. Me. There was nothing appropriate about that relationship. There you have it. I did not have a good time. Not at all. But we’ll always have Beverly Hills, right? This place. The fact that this guru lived in Beverly Hills, or that this story took place there—amazing.

So I guess smart people can be idiots, I guess. I really don’t know what to say there, because I refuse in any capacity to condone this behavior at all. I reject it outright. I will not be tried to strange dynamics, or strange — the operative word — beliefs. I do not agree a, b, c, which is what I had to establish for myself. It’s a giant no.

And the thing is, it took me years to get here, to feel very separated, very clear. And there’s really nothing they can say. I doubt that. Because their beliefs are questionable, or what they said to me is even— notably strange. So I know, I know that now, and let me think about a job I could get, I still think about that. What I can do, for a regular job. I’ll try reporting, I’ll see if I can get a receptionist job, I just feel like a different person. Like how am I even here?

So I don’t know if I should think of a product to sell, an e-book for someone like me? If you just came out of crazy, read what just happened to me. This is how I got through that. So I’ll see if there’s something I can do, if you come from crazy, read this. If you don’t know if you do, read this. If you’re curious, get ready for a real ride. I will update my budget today, nodding at this guru, I will do some food shopping, I’ll go to an open mic, maybe, and maybe start setting up my affiliate marketing YouTube channel, as I’d like to maybe try reviewing beauty products since I’m going to buy them anyway, so I might as well see if I can eventually generate some income. I like beauty products. I thought about religion too, as a beat to cover, as that’s much more interesting to me than family, belief, so maybe I’ll sit with that section in the times, and see if that interests me. I’m trying to figure out where to direct my arrow, because that is part of the deal. I guess I could be an entertainment reporter, I just don’t think I want to do that. So I’ll keep figuring it out.

I have a job, even if it’s not what I want, and even if it requires me to work strange hours. I’m taking action, I’m working a lot right now, I just don’t know what to do in my income bracket. The most basic one. And I sort of hate everyone, truly, that came into my life this past decade, with some exceptions. I don’t know what to saying releasing them in love, I’m releasing them… simply. Go away. Thanks for ruining my life, or helping me to ruin my life. OR helping me to face real demons even if that was harrowing, with abuse involved… like, um, real abuse. I don’t even know how to approach that, since this GURU went FANCY FREE in his stupid imagination without any CHECKS or BALANCES. A disgrace that man, I’m sorry. That was insane. His voice on the telephone was insane. The whole thing was insane.

It took me YEARS to break away. And then he creepily…sends me a couple graphics, images, not “hello, how are you,” like a normal friend, because he wants ME to contact him. I got the picture. Pictures. Two. Creepy. The final one didn’t even make sense, like it was a car… in front of a house? Random. Ignore. And I thought to myself, alright, that was indeed a relationship. A bad one. I have put up walls… across my life. Stay on the other side. Where you belong.

Had a great great rehearsal

In sweats, which might be the right outfit in which I can communicate what coming from a sex scandal was like, meaning, I’m on guard, athletic, and in sunglasses. You know, I felt wrapped up in something I was writing, and I thought, oh, maybe I’ll just skip it, but I went, I was a few minutes late to my own rehearsal at the National Opera Center — so perfect. They have a great deal where rehearsal space is 5 to 8 dollars an hour, so I had the 8 dollar room today with nice windows, a mirror I could talk into, so I could watch my face, attitude, and begin to work on this character in SWEATS, no curls, none, I have no time for those, you see. My MAN, who I refer to, he’s behind me. He’s in the military, NFL, something like this. We have “bathtubs” in our future. We’re thinking about the bathtub. The cool bathtub, you see. We’re not concerned about the sex scandal. There’s a difference. Better together.

I loved that, and it happened by accident, I was in my sweats, which is all I want to wear right now, and a messy ponytail, and I just spoke about the sex scandal from this position. I’m a sports coach, PRO, like millions of dollars, I do not have time for silly games. I do not have time for your perspective on what a NFL game is, and how to play it, ME? This is my turf. Respect it. I get your watch on games on TV. I get your a fan, I do. I don’t have time for you. I need to concentrate on my man, on my team, what I’m directing here. If you’re doing something stupid, I’m going to use my limbs to communicate that to you, yell that to you in your face, because you can act stupid out there. Newsflash.

So today, I’m going to go around and try out this persona. But in my opinion, which is all that matters here, and sure, my man will say, maybe, at times, no it doesn’t, mine does too, but that’s basically where it ends. We have our own private thing, you see, that’s off limits. You cannot touch what I have with my man. The rest of you, it’s goodbye in the definitive, arriverderci. That’s where I come from, that’s what we say when we’re not hanging out anytime soon, it’s clear language.

I’m going to have fun with this one. So there you go, I showed up, and ended up having a fruitful time that made me laugh, still exploring HOW to tackle a show, potentially, and maybe I’ll stick with the sports persona, and try to mime bouncing a basketball, to add some PAZAZZ, some poetry, a She’s All That reference, if you’re paying attention, “pay attention,” that’s what Angelica Leibowitz said. “Pay attention, this bitch told me rape. You. Her. Rape.”

“Pay attention.”

In a Brazilian accent. “Pay attention.” There is a Brazilian mother who exists inside of me. Pay attention. She bequeathed me a whip, on the psycho spiritual plane, for this is her spiritual tool, if not weapon. Like, in the cartoon, she would have a whip. I have it too, I realized that, and I needed to use it in most cases. Annyway, I have a workshop I’m doing now for selling digital products online, something like this, as I gotta figure out how to make money for real and fast… because I’m definitely in a tight spot, just because I don’t have any money, anymore, because I wasn’t really thinking, honestly, and I need to make real moves.

Please, if someone has money in the bank, do not treat them like they don’t. You want to APPRECIATE in value NOT DEPRECIATE. It’s a BASIC idea. You build over time, I get that 500k WILL BE DELIVERED to me in a box, I do, but you’re still building over time. HOUSE. CAR. Nicer car. PLANS. You build over time. There’s nothing to say that a regular SHMOE like me couldn’t have acquired some wealth without all the hocus pocus. I hated these Beverly Hills gurus.

VALUE — UP — OVER TIME. Not DOWN. I’m talking MONEY. The real shit. The shit people actually care about. Masterbate elsewhere. I’m SHARP, most certainly. IN this outfit. Thank you to my Big Sister of America, respect, a former ball player, for helping me stay strong.

I find myself in a bit of a predicament

I have to get ready for rehearsal. I booked space once a week to just get in a room and play around. Run monologues. Speak out loud. Think about a show. And of course continue rinsing away the past decade which ruined me, totally, completely, and now I’m almost 40, and age that would have disecouraged these men from even getting involved. THANKS.

But the Knight Rider theme is with me now — putting on my sunglasses — thinking about my undercover investigation into the sex scandal I was just in. It’s going really well, my EPIC long-form, I’m connecting to the editors psychically, as the guru taught me I could do, I’m placing them, psychically, in the story, downloading the INFORMATION I need to interest them. Picturing them in chairs at the BH tennis club, chillin, telling me to keep on the game, the tennis match. It’s cool. Other parts, not so cool, but no worries, not the time to EDIT, stop doing that.

I have to make fun, I really do, of the past decade. My ten year old face in sunglasses, in the Cutlass Supreme, the camera hugging the nose of the Cutlass. We’re headed to the Beverly Hills Tennis Club, where I’m going to STUDY the sex scandal I was in as a child, for the sake of children. I’m going to bring down Dr. J, my mother.

But now I gotta get into a rehearsal room for a couple of hours, jump around, I’m feeling lethargic, particularly around this activity, because I’m negotiating with self, as the field of bullshit I had to go through to get here, France aside, in just coming from a story that attracted attention, but ended up making my life more complicated, so I arrived on the other side of hell, that I went through also thanks to the GURU, thanks, having wished I directed my experiences into a profession that would have avoided the personal bullshit — meaning, not write about it, but here I am…

I’m just continuing to figure out what I’d like to do, in a bit of a tight spot, because I wasn’t thinking TRAJECTORY at all as a writer—where do you want to end up? No one asked. I couldn’t believe these people, I mean, I don’t know why I listened to them, so now, I look across the jobs out there, and I’m not — well positioned, right now. I haven’t even written, in some senses, a real feature, which doesn’t neccesarily mean I can’t sell a pitch, but that way isn’t the most intuitive to me, so I’m still trying to figure that out, as I don’t have a PASSION or BEAT. It’s not to say I can’t sell something, and I hope I do soon, but at least, I think I would like to go into film and tv in some capacity, so I’m directing my arrow to EPIC.

That makes sense. And hopefully, by the time I’m done, I’ll have a solid idea as to how I want to structure the book, and I can move on… I don’t know what to do yet, if I should pitch this as a series, a couple chapters, or what, but I’ll continue to figure that out. In any case, the end is pretty clear to me, it’s the lambada, the living room dance floor, I guess the players, the tennis players, as if I could love, as it was a love song, that’s what scored these years — hit Celine, The Power of Love, the most SERIOUS, and it was. A comittment. Deuce picking up the neon ball with his shoe and racket. Where the game and the bodies and the play at hand all exist at the same level of intensity, like you could drop the music, hit the aerial shot, and consider the boxes, the structure of it, the beast in it, the order, civlization. Man. And that way, she’s like this fertility goddess, a celebrator of sex, or love love love, and was it inappropriate? yes, no, where to go? When you’re in this house for these reasons…they were Jewish, too, or we celebrated sorrows in the next room, true tragedies. Supernatural — close calls, passover. One house, held everything, and sex became PG, for real, this Jews — these miraculous children — latin also, it was… a miracle. So, what do you do with the totality, that’s where I end, because there really wasn’t an end, just an amazement, that this is what happens in the world, that the unbelievable can happen to you. Right now, that’s where I’m at.

It’s a spiritual story, sure, where these tennis players are captured in snapshots of levitation, bended knee, and estactic reaches of the chest, it was spiritual, for sure, what we do, can do, what we care about, what we don’t. So, again, I FEEL good about what’s happening, you see, it’s just, that FEELING way of moving through life to me, personally, ultimately leads to unsatisfaction in the moment. What I’d like to feel is satisfied, it worked, but being in some video game version of life, I must say, it caused me distress. I chose to remain neutral about it, as a child, it’s just that didn’t work out that well, or I didn’t get the support I needed to NOT attach to this story, it’s NOT something that makes your INTERESTING, it’s NOT the thing to put on your college essay, type deal, if you catch my drift, because I always came from “a story.” How you get sort of caught up… and that just, in the USA, even, just got strangely complicated where I met power players who liked “to help…” but I didn’t NEED help. If I needed PROFESSIONAL HELP, if that’s what YOU thought, WHY? First of all. WHY? WHY are you so FOCUSED on ME? With teeth. I had a hard time getting into arguments with people, because my relationship to my father was horrific, terrible, so I didn’t want to FIGHT. So WHY? Get ready. I am actually ferocious. I will return the ball back. And yes, it might hurt. I got hurt enough.

I can walk out, tell you to fuck off, I’m in a better place with rage, turning it up for demonstration. These men, I’m telling you… they had some nerve, you know? Just chill, they projected all over me upon sight. Jesus Christ. Anyway, gotta go, will be late for rehearsal.

Okay, so I'm dating someone

I suppose the joke would be: I met a lawyer, I had to, the key to solving all my problems. And it was in front of me the whole time as it usually the case. I just needed to meet a lawyer. You know? That wasn’t hard. Not an artist, no, not a strange older man seeking to “help me” “realize my life” — yikes — or “help me with my career he knows nothing about.” I just needed to get that relationship sorted.

Also, in my case, having a lawyer handy is good protection—no one is going to try anything funny here. Not when he’s atached to like 300 lawyers. I come with one but really 300 — pointing an extinguisher at YOU. BACK OFF. He’s telling me: record all conversations, please remark any strange details in his house (like the portrait of a distressed woman, right? He liked that, lol) follow him if you must. “Self defense.”

No problem coming up with an argument. Not in my case.

I needed to get this relationship sorted, but of course, my problem overall was: pursue. Action. Not thought. I have enough of a problem NOW because of the sci-fi logic I absorbed. What about, a nice guy? A normal nice guy.

It’s just, the relationships I got into, wow, they were strange. These men were extremely weird. Like, why did these people getting involved in my life in the way that they did?

So there, I feel this mother inside of me start to reflect on that, as I had to get in touch with this archetype inside myself, and though the Zen Master Sybil tried DESPERATELY to get me TO GET ANGRY, if she had said, “I want you to think about what YOU would have done if you were a mother…” that might have sunk in.

But I could get wrapped up, where I really didn’t want to. I didn’t want any of that. I didn’t want to get that involved. Overall. I didn’t want the slytherin to call me every day, as he did, once I moved into the Chelsea, like every day. It disturbed me. Only because it sounded strange, “am I bothering you?” And he had a tone, one I detected in other scenarios, one I didn’t understand. The Hollywood guru was a manipulator. He was emotionally manipulative, extremely emotional in his delivery of words.

They should reflect on that. These were manipulators. At least, the slytherin, he knows that, he knows he can be manipulative. Most people aren’t speaking in cutesy squeaky tones. Did he LIKE me? The slytherin. Now, exhausted, my lawyer boyfriend laughing already, “I do not CARE nor ASSUME that someone likes me, I get it, I was LADY GAGA amazing etc. but evidently they weren’t interested,” and here comes Gary, my other friend, “weird men,” but I didn’t understand their interest.

I seemed like???? A cool person? Young? I assure you, I’m a bit of a tough mother, in that, I was not young. I was not that young. Relax. I was thirty.

With these types, I don’t necessarily think they had to go in that direction, it’s just, with the so-called wise screenwriter, he disrespected me at HELLO, literally! So did my old professor, the one I got involved with at HELLO. Not people to get closer to. That was at hello with that guy, the wise screenwriter who would probably pull some kind of innocent man routine though he knows he pointed at me utterly bizarrely after ONE outting and started acting like a lunatic. In his mind: wiseman. In anyone else’s mind, sitting there: lunatic. That was a NO at HELLO. Now, the slytherin: proceed with caution. I didn’t need geniuses, goddammit.

But anger, rage, since the Zen Master Sybil said, that’s a problem with me. It extends beyond getting upset with someone, though that I needed to do, because people will manipulate the SHIT out of you, they really really will. EVERYONE thinks they have the full picture, everyone thinks they have the absolute truth. And who gives a shit? This was the point. YOU’RE WRONG, to these men. Fuck you. Majorly.

Anger, that’s a boundary thing. Being able to assess if someone is crossing lines. Being able to stay in your own space. Being able to say, “no offense,” do NOT text me on Facebook from another country! I do not want to be in a long-distance relationship, NOPE. Um, was I attracted to ANY of this? I do not know what that word even MEANS anymore. No. Unconscious operation. I got to a point, where I thought, I have no idea who this is. It was scary. Yeah, boundaries. I might not have been the person to give drugs to, where boundaries dissolve… further… no?

I would like to say I learned something, but guess what? Not really. I didn’t really get anything out of it, except some understanding that you can have psychic experiences. Cool. That did not help me gain any clarity on my life at all. To me, personally, at least a psychologist is DIRECT. They should be. Like, looking back at this psychologist I got involved with? Um, hello? “WHY, at the age of thirty,” that’s where I am at, “are you living for FREE? You can’t afford your own place? But you’re paying ME 400 dollars an hour? Can you tell me, please, what SENSE this makes?”

GOAL ONE, fuck trust, “Get your own place. Get a job. NOT with these people. Keep them on the outskirts. You want to have CASUAL friends, sure, there are different types of friendships…” you gotta go — into the world, and begin to make peace with the truth of the matter—everybody makes their own life. I don’t know why that point caused me heartache, like, people get caught here, it’s really true. “Do you want to be the type of person that LIFE happens TO,” because I was “so open,” and I am so OVER IT, “or do you want to be the type of person who MAKES their own life, you’re going to have to MAKE that happen.”

So I don’t know what to say, except I had to get enabled left and right, and go through a terribly painful experience with so-called mental health experts, even.

So, I have guards up, down, up, just meeting the world in a new way. I am aware I’m making choices, so I’m trying to make sure I’m very aware. So I’m taking it slow with this lawyer, which is totally fine, and he’s a different person, if that makes sense, a different type of guy, and so, that can trigger a little chaos, which isn’t HIS problem, so he will never know, but I keep reasoning with myself, right? That I’m just getting to know someone if not something else.

With all this self-aggrandising I was apart of, no offense, like, I was Joan Didion, could be, over a book, or a writing career? OKAY? Drugs involved. Or, “medicine.” I just go, a nice guy, sounds really refreshing. Nice, easy, pretty simple guy. (For now.) And me? Yeah, I think I’m actually a catch, sure, I don’t want to put my shit on him, no thank you, so I’ll deal with that on my own… I do understand that a relationship is about mutual growth, like you’re both going to grow, that’s what I think.

The rest? I truly don’t care. I want to have a group of girlfriends, that I go out with, that sounds fun. Building that. I hope what I’m doing now will work out, I get scared, mostly, sometimes, on most mornings. But the thing is, this guru, since I seriously had to work out my mind, it’s NOT that big of a deal. It’s not—why are you TELLING YOURSELF, whatever. “Just keep going.” A small dose of fear I think, might actually be positive, because you’re putting yourself out there… and, I might a nice guy, he’s doing well in his career, I guess, I can’t totally follow, but he’s sort of emo, haha, I think, which is funny to me, I think, but okay, cool. I’ll keep putting myself out there, yeah, date, meet. So, you, me. I obviously had to find the resources within myself to be able to give myself what I needed. I was someone who needed basic… basic, guidance. People live their lives…in the way they want to.

But, for me, I’m just a normal person, just a person, cool, maybe I will end up meeting… here we go… a Duke? Sure! Since this professor of mine believed I should live in a castle? Like I was a character in a novel. And now, I feel like I was so broken down, in a way, that I’m SO normal, you know? I’m so so normal. There isn’t anything special about me, right now. I’m just sitting in that.

Is this what celebrities go through? Hilariously? Like, Jesus Christ, they felt SO UNREAL? Confused? Coming to need to go to the woods and remind themselves that they were the DWEEB in middle school? The person the acting teacher said, “you suck,” and they said, “who gives a shit?” You see what I mean?

I’m just a person. It’s really really strange.

(The lawyer lol just behind me, no? Just listening to all this?)

I’m sort of going, I’ll keep going, I hope I’ll break ground, real ground, goddammit, and be able to build. It’s like, is the first guy you go out with in your life — the last? I mean, depends, but probably not. So I’m sort of feeling like I’m in the place I wish I was at eighteen. Even 21. Where I wanted to meet someone? Where I WANTED. So that was a small lifetime. It’s not that I didn’t meet people… it’s just a different attitude. Positive. That’s actually what positive means. It’s a directional thing, who cares if you have dark moments, or you struggle sometimes, even, or you can get negative, even, that’s not that big of a deal with me, that sounds normal. I was NOT a loner. That’s not who I am, actually. I was watching a big group celebrating someone’s birthday I think at a restaurant, and that’s one of my personal goals. I want that type of life. That’s abundance to me.

You go out on dates… you get to know one another… and all this fantasy just disappeared. I definitely went through a break down, just to — want to kill this guru, for real, because WHAT was he DOING? THINK about it. If I came to understand I was ABUSED somewhere, I don’t know what to say, which is what the sexual trauma specialist said, though “people describe something like that…” that was a whole life thus far. Then, the slytherin truly, he farted at me on the phone, imagine? After I got out of the hospital? So whether or not he sent me that message that threw me over an edge, I’m sitting cushily at, “probably.” And I came from a sex scandal, you see, when I was four, where my mother treated me “unimaginably,” and that’s what our mutual friend said about this guy. “Sometimes he can treat people in unimaginable ways.” He might want to reflect on that?

THAT’s where I ended up. With my best friend wanting to kill politicians, for real, to enact change after the George Floyd protests. Amazing. Dark times. Then, he wants to play a character that doesn’t exist — in my draft — he wants to be my manager? He seemingly unconsciously communicated to ME that he had a hard time with ME doing well? I’m sorry?? I just moved into an apartment that was unnecessary to move into, this stupid guru living on some GOLD chair in the sky, telling me fictional characters are “really good psychological devices!” Then, this guy, “as your manager…” when I don’t do anything that requires a manager.

I needed Dave Chappelle to help me through that, yes, the comedian. “Is this Selena talk?” Please, Mr. Chappelle! Help! What am I looking at?!! As your manager, with a belitting hand. And I’m just trying to move into an apartment, and listen to this. I gave him my apartment to decorate, because I thought that’s what he did, now, so “I couldn’t pay him, and sorry,” I even apologized, but I wanted to “share this” as I felt I was moving up in the world? And then, I basically paid 5,000 for paint, I borrowed HIS furniture, so he could… do what he wanted. I had to pull the plug.

So I looked around, and I thought, wait, I spent 5k to borrow his furniture. What sense does that make? Maybe he would have gifted it to me, in the end? But you see how nonsensical that was? To be told, as YOUR manager… you know? I was thinking, you could maybe pitch what you did, right? Maybe you can use this space to — I’m nice no? He furnished a whole house for 3k from IKEA. That was nonsensical. And at that point, I was going through so much, so when he joked about being a drug addict, and I collapsed, in this new apartment, I hadn’t even moved in, I thought, shit, fuck, my mother was a drug addict. Now, if you JOKE about being a drug addict with me — beware. Because I will get mean, in your face.

Go do drugs, do whatever the fuck you want to, do not come up to me and PLAY some stupid game. You want to be a drug addict? Joking about being a drug addict because someone had a TALK to him the night before, obviously, and he was seeking the wrong type of support. Let me tell you as someone who doesn’t have a problem with drugs, do what you want, do not come up to me and say “drug addicts are on a higher plane of consciousness,” which he did, so I reached a bit of a breaking point there. Now — marksman. I have fantastic aim. Psychic skills. I am Professor X’s protegee and I have been told I can “see into people’s souls…” imagine???

For real!

And in the movie, I can’t always handle it (wow, wow, the critics will say, wow) seeing into souls… I need, Professor X will have to call on the X-Men to help me brace my collapse, in a chair, and I will make room for the ghost of Barbara Harris, which Professor X can attest is the case, true, and sometimes you can see her pink glow, something like this. And Professor X will deliver a truly moving monologue, and he will give me the tools to filter out some of that. He will tell me, indeed, “this is a gift… you just have to figure out how to use it…” I have to laugh. I have to make fun. I guess if I had had the experience of my whole life just flourishing as a result of all that talk, that would be one thing. Holy, I really got mixed up.

A lawyer? Yup, heard it before. I spoke to my friend’s father who was a lawyer after this whole debacle. Here’s the thing, “this guy he broke into her apartment,” no problem, “taped her phones…” obviously. I laughed. Regardless, you know, there was chaos, but he did seem to hear me, like, “I’m not so sure about that friend,” even if he didn’t break into her house. So he sort of saw through some of the mess of that.

What we do know, if I do ever need a manager? Not calling that guy. Like, really? You want to be my manager? Right? And, at the time, I was just a writer! So what manager? My assistant? Hadn’t even finished a book! And now I’m in MOVIE LAND? Because some dipshit, no offense, but just to PUNCH that one out of the water, some SCREENWRITER (ooohhhhh) said, yeah cool, I’ll read some of your pages, I’m not — in movie land, like, now, I might try some screenwriting, but I’m not calling that person, I’m not asking that person to do anything, right?

That was an amazing disaster, that year I decided to write a book, Jesus. They were coming at me from all angles, truly, the SECOND I started to make a real reach. The GURU was a total lunatic, I do not know why… my psychologist a JOKE, no offense. My best friend — in looney tunes. I myself started to go through wild experiences. And at the outset, it was rather simple: what you’re doing is making me uncomfortable. Please, do not tell me “you create your own reality…” or that everything that happens to you, you want, like all you have to do is go INSIDE to fix anything happening on the outside? I couldn’t communicate. The guru was a true lunatic that I got WRAPPED UP in, yikes. Now I grain away like, you’ve got problems, dude, real problems with women that you are attracted to. Don’t bullshit me. He’s a good bullshiter.

So, what can I say? My parents were so crazy. THEN, the slytherins returned. I asked for my money back and some random message came through my website. The GURUS are saying, YOU ATTRACTED THE MESSAGE from the ETHER to deliver yourself the FINAL BLOW? WHAT BLOW? Then this asshole, guru, tells me, “you were repressed for a long time,” after this fucking deranged exchange! I’m telling you man, if it’s true I’m sososososososososo psychic — if we can telelpathically communicate, let it be know I have reached out to the MOST powerful people in the world, on the psycho spiritual plane, for assistance. Okay?

That’s my latest joke. President Barack Obama and I have had some great convos about all this. Picturing what HE would do in these situations he would never be in. The final blow? This guy was — coercion. Not so much threats, but holy shit. WHAT was this man doing?! Final blow? I could, honestly, take a bat and destroy his property. And, to some, those slytherins might have sent it to me. That was spooky, the timing, that my bank was going to get shut down. Sure, an empty threat, sure now — I would drive over to Scott’s hosue, and now what? Who the fuck do you think you are? You want to hire a HITMAN? Truly. Farting on me on the phone!

Stupid, why did this stupid ex of mine put this guy on the phone with me? After I got out of the hospital. Why? He PRETENDED like he liked me. Bullshit. Bullshit. So that guy, on behalf of ALL the people he treated “unimaginably?” I hope he gets a TASTE of his own medicine. I do. Another genius. Jesus, up to my fucking ears.

Anyway, what a year this was.

I gotta clean my apartment now, with the ghost of Barbara Harris (lol). Excuse us. We have rehearsals… open mics to attend… perhaps scripts to write… okay? Characters to develop. We have plans. NEXT. Holy shit. Now, you have to picture the ghost of an actress… haunting me and then going, WHOA, and she will help me. Oh my God! And we will make it out… on some spaceship… lightning speed ahead. WHOA, turbulence. And now, there I am…on stage… trying. There’s no reason why I can’t figure something out. I keep my chin up, I have my negative moments, particularly around the writing, because I feel sort of stupid. Just how I went about it.

I just sent out a pitch, so I’m trying to figure that out, I’m just not the person who’s googling stuff, or researching ideas, so I keep working on what I’m working on, which are more creative projects, so I’m hoping I’ll be able to break SOME ground, now, now that I’m through that nightmare. And sure, I went through a whole mental health event, but the sexual trauma specialist is telling me, that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any TRUTH in it. He triggered you, duh, that person was insane, those people sent you that message, he was pretty sure. Luckily, a lawyer is following me 100% —there’s no doubt about it. And then, I got a weird message from my mother…

Oh my god.

Because I was on the cover of VOGUE, one cover, and to the ghost of Barbara Harris —oh my God! ONE magazine cover. And suddenly I’m getting messages from her family, like hey, we’re family. BLOCK BLOCK BLOCK. I was so angry, my mother waas offensive to an unbelievable point. Where she’s telling THEM about my cover, or she’s talking as if we have a relationship when she treated me like trash. The personality behind it doesn’t matter. I could have killed this bitch. Which is why, at will, making new email accounts, I will fire a subject only email at her — just to punch her in the face. I was trained by the Russians. Lol.

“This is just,” in my Russian mother’s mind, shrugging, she doesn’t care.

I’m sending her videos of people saying nice things about their children.

WHY she hates me as much as she does— I do not KNOW. WHY she PLAYS innocent? I do not know. Are you mentally ill? You work every day no? So you can clearly operate? Do you have a diagnosis? In a court of law, that might matter. You know what I mean? And as I was reaching out to President Obama through this, on the psycho spiritual plane, I heard: is she even licensed to practice in the state of California? I thought, wow, that’s a good question. “You can find that out.”

Thanks!

I had to laugh. I did. So, look, if that turns out to be true about my parents, whatever, I mean, whatever I’m dealing with now, wow. Only because, in a way, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Just her hatred. It’s self-hatred, you can look at her and SEE very clearly she’s a tortured human being. Most of the time, it’s a “wow.” That’s what people say about her. And yet, you know, I don’t know what to do with it, because I don’t know what it means to accept your parents, accept that you are made from them. But I was on the subway in a white coat, not fur, and I thought about her white fur, I don’t know, but I hope, really, because it’s still so scary, that I have made peace with my char, my flesh, my connection to these people, which I wish I didn’t have.

Just the, when I got to that scene in my book, where I am home? What? Towards the end of this fiasco. And my cousins voices are PUNCHING through the pages, “where was your father??” You understand? A joke. And my mother has “a new business manager?” Who had taken over my house? In a sense. And I don’t remember if these drops off occurred once, twice, don’t know. But I’m telling you, I remember sitting in the only bedroom that was in that house? I didn’t have a room. I got up, in this state of serenity… I was serene. I calmly walked over to her office, no one was there. And I cut every chord, of her telephones, I took the whiteout and carefully painted every computer key, it was rage, but it was sailing over clouds. Then, I was playing handball, waking up to the fact that I was there, and this business manager came downstairs to kick my ball to the heavens and scream in my face.

And it was then, after four years, going through these four years, you understand. I looked at my mother in the shadows of the garage, looking at as if she were upset? Looking at my father… standing there like a DUNCE? Looking at this son of a bitch, yelling at ME? Am I NOT living someone else because we believe I am BEING SEXUALLY ABUSED you lunatics! You see? Was this true?

And then what? I called this woman? Angelica? To pick me up? I’m telling you dude, this business manager, he’s on my hitlist. I get it, in that, he had interests. He needed his taxes taken care of, I’m pretty sure, and no offense, I had form an alliance with President Barack Obama on the psycho spiritual plane, so I was not afraid, lol. That’s the information I downloaded right there. “He probably needed his taxes taken care of, Maria, think about it.” A woman on the brink of bankruptcy, he’s going to go out of his way to PAY her way OUT, claiming she’s a genius, that her business has “potential.” So who is this guy? He said “he used to work for THE government,” another one of these sentences that made President Obama and I chuckle. China too—over there. Nothing but laughs. “THE government?”

What a bunch of lunatics.

And keep in mind, I start voicing like, holy shit, was that true? And I’m getting SHUT DOWN. The moment I open my mouth. No one is going, “why do you feel that way?” You see what I mean? And luckily, I had the inner strength to get myself to someone I could talk to. Just because, I KNOW, that if you were to read that story, you’re not going to know at ALL what the fuck is going on. So there you have it, mix in some physical experiences, casual, and that’s why. I had no clue. But it was just, being inside these scenes, and coming to realize that this was really happening, that made me want to — attack my parents, Judge Judy style.

Can you picture her? Magnum Opus. Looking through all these ACCOUNTS, all these papers, of my mother accosting priests with rapes? Looking for sex downtown?? I wish my parents came under the public eye, I really wish that they had been confronted, because honestly, I have no idea what my father would have done, it was a terror that I can’t even relive, because there’s no real material to go off of. Like, what would he have done? SAID? Judge Judy would have — fired.

I don’t know about THESE types of people, you see. HOW they act? Just, finally, when he finally brought me home, after having realized I was a few times, after having remembered our conversations in the car about it, like, he didn’t MENTION these times, and I arrived — and my cousins are behind me — downstairs, an eight year old, my mother’s mirrors being smashed off her walls. The house crashing. I exploded. Are YOU INSANE? And I had to go on some deranged ride… I ripped him, confused out of my mind, and at the end of this argument, where we’re shufling around a car, like he’s going to come AFTER ME? Look, the Neapolitans, they know shit can get crazy, and they’re SEEING me telling him to fuck off — like you’re going to come after me, chucking a teddy bear at this lunatic, “tyranny!”And they’re saying, “this is a Neapolitan…” Jokes aside, and how can I not make jokes, I need to relieve myself. He goes, “she did this because she was jealous…”

How gross is that?

She wanted to “tear us apart…”

So, okay, I’m thirty-four. I’m going, wait, she was JEALOUS of a four year old, why? First of all. And so, she LIED about YOU being a child molester, rapist, whatever this was, because she was JEALOUS? She spent 11k a month to get rid of me, then? Because she was jealous? This man stood at this woman’s wide open door and watched girls going CRAZY HAPPY through the house for years! I think. More than once, for sure. Please help me to understand the SNAPSHOT?

And I’m like — help! Friend, please, someone, it’s been YEARS of agony, and I’m going to get SHOT DOWN. Like I was already in this situation, which EVERYONE knew, at least in my adult life. But I WOKE up, got strapped in, man, and I went on this ride, and it was horrific. But the basic skeleton of it, structure of it was there, I’m just not GOING INTO these details, or no one is ASKING me anything, we mostly floated through pixie dust, really, that’s what this story appeared like. Imagine? My whole life! That was my whole life. That lie.

When I was eight, I broke down and cried, because I was at a total loss, and I heard my voice, for the first time, “I don’t even have a room.” I had no idea where to go. And there, you know, when you keep hearing and SEEING evidence that it might be true, wow. Like am I in crazy town? Or am I really in Crazy town? And the sexual trauma specialist is telling me — you are really in Crazy Town, so at this point? Sure! Sure, it could have been true, obviously. I suppose Milarepa, since this saint came to my attention, he sought revenge against his family for killing his family, and he sent scorpions, beasts, to kill them all at a wedding, or something. And yet, afterwards, he felt no relief. So he went on a conversion story.

Man, if I had come to realize that was true, I don’t even know what to say, but — my father was maddening, he drove me MAD. Just, the way he pointed down, “they told vicious lies about me,” and then, going, wait, “you didn’t KNOW though…” and my mother, she’s just some Joker hanging out a limo with her tits exposed, truly, driving past Leonardo Di Caprio, utterly — um, not wanting to see that — right? Through Beverly Hills. Some woman who just flicked some domino… threw in CASH… and let the games begin. Wow. That’s what she did to her own child. That’s what HE did. My father. And this Brazilian woman in the middle… she’s going, “holy shit.”

Here’s 11k, a month, so I imagine they had to meet to exchange CASH. Unbelievable! Unbelievable! And Nicole and I are skipping through LACMA, to give the overall story a fairytale appeal… skipping past dinosaurs sinking in tar in states of agony, you understand, because we were on Miracle Mile. Anyway, my mind was blown, it really was. I felt it too, my mind was blown open. I wasn’t sure if that psychic break, I think, would heal, or I was worried, but it did. It 100% did. I don’t know what that was. But I felt broken open. AND THEN I get farted on.

By this guy.

Sitting there with the ghost of an actress, lol. Unbelievable. An Academy Award nominee. And then, gasp! My best friend, who acted all weird, and not to say I didn’t go through a break down… he wants to talk CLOTHES. When I’m TRASHING my whole closet. TRASHING. Selling. I’m getting rid of every single item. I have boxes ripped open, the few I had left, with photographs all over the floor, I placed my mother’s STUPID Neiman Marcus article RIGHT NEXT to Hannah Arendt’s “The Promise of Politics.” RIGHT THERE. The STUPID GURU is telling me to GET ON SOCIAL MEDIA, He SLIPS in right there, this asshole. telling me FINAL BLOW, acting as if he didn’t act like a LUNATIC, his brother getting INVOLVED WHY???

“Was I fed?”

“YES,” the guru said, as I was fucking confused, this man kept SHOVING “they feed you” down my throat! (My cousins, in my draft). “And I suspect,” he says, this lunatic, “that you weren’t bathed either…” like I needed this asshole. His BRO, his brother, made a MESS. Not his job to clean it up AKA do more damage as NOBODY in my life — truly — treated me as if I went through anything real! On top of it. So I sold my closet. Because, my friend had offended me, to my core, he became the person I just defaulted to about clothes, and he treated me, in the end, with disrespect. So into the garbage. And you know, our ties are complicated, there’s ME in it, there’s ME everywhere, but if you think about it? No sense.

Yikes, the funny bit? The haunted part? There was this one moment, as I was freaking out, thirty years later, I closed the door, and the glass in my peephole fell, onto the ground, and GASP! I said, “I saw the eye of jealousy.” And right there, my mind’s eye opened, really wide, and “my evil brother” character stepped into frame. He definitely definitely saw the eye of jealousy…. and I began to think about Jokers. Just the “bad guys” versus “good guys.” I sort of made peace with it. I thought, I could write villains. So my “evil brother” appeared, like, wow, and he gave me a good idea. “You should write a villain, or something,” so I keep him in my back pocket, because he was like, “I can exploit all your weakness on the field of dreams…” not OUTSIDE. So I guess I made peace with the villain, or the dark side, and now, I can tackle my mother as one, to begin, of course, in a sense. She’s a woman. She was a villain. And now, that isn’t so harrowing. Lots of darkness.

So I went through that period, you know, where my best friend is even telling me that the apocalypse is really coming. Don’t know how I got here, but all I had to say was, “this is making me feel uncomfortable.” I didn’t have to enact it, because I didn’t know how to communicate. I invited him over, because I was so triggered by that point, and in a sort of Jesus way, I acted as if I had FOUGHT for a thousand years, something like that, totally crazy, and now, I was on the other side of it. The apocalypse is over. I did it. So who is crazier? The one who really believes it’s coming, or the ONE who is already on the other side of it? That’s all. Despair.

I wouldn’t ever do that again, like I wouldn’t have done most of the things I did, but if I heard APOCALYPSE FOR REAL is coming ONE MORE TIME… with this GURU saying IDEAS are REAL and COMING FOR YOU… all the while SAILING through all this on a single windsurf! Right? The Little Mermaid. I had a hilarious sponatenous thought drop from the sky at the top of this year… which was, suddenly, I think I might have been meditating, I don’t know, but suddenly I was on a beach and without hesitation, I saw the single windsurf laying on the sand, and I got on that shit, and start SPEED SAILING — to a brighter future. So that image comes back to me from time to time, SAILING through the winds. (With the ghost of Barbara Harris…) we’re going at a diagonal… and now I hope I can be an entertainer.

I get the apocalyse is coming. I thought, in this moment, where I was going through so much, too, that I could just do an apocalypse story, just take OYA, yes, the goddess, this was my solution — and really really give the people what they want. An apocalyspe. With an African goddess behind it. Not in a bad way, like evil, the opposite. There you go! Just picture her there instead of THOR. OYA. DO IT. I’m sick and tired of seeing WESTERN GODS. SICK AND TIRED OF IT.

My “psychosis” was absolutely hilarious. I”m going through so much and coming up with conceit after conceit to channel everything to a story somewhere else. If that becomes anything, cool, but I went through an enormous ordeal. And in the end, this guru was in love with me, I THINK, that was a disturbing response.

Meanwhile, the lawyer…

He has no issue with…wanting to spend some time with me.

Hilarious!

So, alright, cue Brian Tyler, orchestrating the “out” music. There’s a bit of a Jim Carrey impulse inside of me — a superhero coming out of this GNARLY time..Ace Venture Pet Detective. (Love Actually.) “WOW,” just picture Jim Carrey saying that, after all that. “DO NOT GO IN THERE, WHOO!” I was on that level, my friend.

Chewed up by sharks. Got out by a slim chance.

Going through physical experiences, lol, like my hips start HURTING.

“WHOO!”

Coming to discover that her “magical powers” are gone. If you would. And there’s an actress — haunting/helping me — telling me: who gives a shit? Get in there! Up there! So that’s what I’m doing. I’m taking deep breaths, and trying to make something out of it, some of it, at least. Something. Facing a normal life. You know what I mean?

I’d like to buy a house, a nice house, I’d like to succeed, in my life, but I made my choices, so I think there’s a period of… status quo… like this is where I am… and I keep moving past my moments of fear. The delusion was unbelievable. Unreal. Unbelievable. I just mean around me, in me, and I reopened those years… and I can see how I might invent a magical land where evil white witches lure children, and the forces of good and evil battle it out, close calls, deaths, the whole thing.

As your manager.

A fictional character is a “psychological device,” to be exact, his wording, “and a good one.”

Getting farted on.

Perhaps on some leg (with the ghost of an actress) with thugs who sent me some email when they got mad? In the middle of the night…

You see what I mean?

I get a call? At 8:30 AM? From a middleman? Acting like nothing is happening. I ask him to take the money for me, and he’s not going, “why would I do that? You are NOT in danger.” He agrees to take the money for me. Now, WHY? If that was unnecessary? Did he know I was terrified? Why didn’t he say, “DUDE, WHY ARE YOU SCARED?” You see, that did not happen. So, in my mind, I have the right to question whether or not they actually sent me that message.

But like, what the fuck? No offense. What am I going to do? SUE THEM? You know? Stupid. So the sexual trauma expert, he believes they sent it. Call it an emotional move. The sign of — youth. That’s what I think, with the ghost of an actress backing me up, because holy shit — this got CRAZY.

But I got through it.

The message that they sent through my website (most likely) it hit me in the gut. I was under a lot of tension, to be fair, but it really hit me. So here we go, am I psychic? Just the last thing I needed. Just a mess.

Gotta clean, but I’m just feeling better, I keep evacuating this period, not knowing WHY I felt like a criminal. You know? BECAUSE I came from where I did. So ANGELICA LEIBOWITZ, congratulations, you played your role, and this woman was a goddamn BOWSER, some BOWSER I needed to defeat. PUTTING THAT SITUATION ON ME. And all I can ask, now, is WHY?

I picture my friend’s dad, the lawyer, smiling at me, knowingly, as a criminal defense attorney. He can’t tell me details, but he’s seen some stupid shit. He really has. We hung out one night because he was installing his daughter’s cable or TV and he’s the nicest guy, and we had a funny conversation. That’s a clean person. He sees me as one of the kids, literally. Picking up his pants, he’s got curls too. From that perspective, I was thinking about all this, like, turning to a jury, “I really really came from crazy.” And now, hopefully, I might be able to USE that, play some kick ass character, who migh be outside the law herself, who knows?

At least in that arena, I can play anything. I can invent anything. That’s where I got to. It’s all okay, I didn’t need to feel like a criminal. Again my mother was a harsh mirror: Joy. I think she’s be a fantastic villain. What she reflected. People are crazy… they don’t even know it… when they lose their mind. There are all sorts of characters out there. Who feel JUSTIFIED. I have to flip it back on the guru, right? Who said that THAT whole event was about justice. The feeling in my gut. The impact.

The desire for justice.

Now I look back at him, like, what were you doing?

I don’t know what to say, you see, that’s maybe not true…

It’s almost as if he wanted me to turn against myself. And I’m sorry, forgive me, but I can’t even stomach any kind of point of view on the subject, like THEY were a reflection of you, or your past? Your father? I really don’t know. I just have to stay there a minute. Because I did not want to turn against myself. If that was familial somewhere down there, just because, my mother? I’m sorry that was a legendary lunatic, a legendary human being. I just have to flick that TINY domino in another direction quick — that this made me SPECIAL, FAMOUS, I DO NOT KNOW AND I DO NOT WANT IT. Okay? With talk of me being PRETTY. Fuck off. Go away. I don’t give a SHIT what I look like, truly! I had nothing but rage. For a while. It’s an EXPLUSION. It’s an utter rejection. So I’m just there, when it comes to all that. It’s a BLAST OFF, away, send in an actress. (lol.)

Send in an actress with classical training — NOW. Rip these people to shreds. How hilarious? In my X-MEN? On my team? Intimate team? An actress. You want power? BLAST THEM AWAY. I do not want to deal with this. All I neeed was a British voice in my head — to get here. Now I’m really laughing. I heard A BRITISH voice inside of me, and I began to speak very clearly. Now send in an actress, I do not CARE where she is from. I laughed at that, I really did. I needed to care enormously. I needed to really care with gravitas. Because that was insane. Just the whole thing. And the thing is, I feel realer and realer, over here, I feel much better, THANKS, and I cannot CHANGE what that means, which scares me sometimes, just because, I don’t know what to say about my family, what happened to me extremely young, and people don’t get what psychology is, I’m sorry, and if it LOOKS too obvious? Or something? It’s pretty clear to me, we are affected by the experiences that we lived through. And in my case, that was Wonderland, or “the underworld” to the Neapolitans. They could tell I was in the underworld, in some capacity. They could hear that I was Dante, I was telling a story about hell, no? My cousins got the picture, casually, even. But then DANTE is now DANTE, so please, do not LAUGH at DANTE, this is too important a figure. The road was the road. “I went through the USA family inferno,” in real tones, at dinner, shrugging at me, that the fates decided it would be so, probably because you had a great destiny, something, like this, yes, I didn’t make sense, but whatever, right? It’s Inferno. It HAS to be confusing.

“The labor right? That’s what he know. Is on the return. AMAZING story though, right?” They have to memorize it. In school. And luckily they did. Because I was Dante, and yes, I was aided by an actress. This was a super archetype to Maria, and it’s extremely funny. I hope I reached for an inner power within myself to just — trash the whole thing. Just trash it, with a beginning like that, it’s simple, I’m hero, let’s just get there, to that status, in whatever means we need to. If that means I’ll invent a character worhty of an stupendous actress, I’ll take it, for sure. No thanks. I’ll be chilling with Prince Charles, not saying much, just sitting there… being with all that has happened. Gazing out windows, “a British person.” I have to work on that, because Barbara Harris played British…and the more I think about it, the more I think, wow Lerner was truly funny. I know, have her become “British,” let’s see what happens? And then, Harris is playing that she regresses to a British self…

So funny. And I found something true about it in my own head. Like, I started hearing like Sir Ian Mckellan reading these words, and beginning to picture a British person narrating this lunacy, and it made me laugh. SO maybe I’ll end up playing with a British persona, I’ll see what happens, and if it is funny… because it works? I’ll see. I think it’s just Somerset Maughm, because he’s sort of like my grandfather, where I read a lot of his work in my twenties, thirties, and I felt like I enjoyed him, he was an orphan, in Britain, at that time, and he ended up becoming one of the most celebrated writers, and I guess he’s out of style, but I appreciated what he did, it was really fun to read him, so I guess maybe I just read a British author in depth.

Again, my cousins think characters are my thing, I was becoming someone else at the drop of a hat, lol, they said, now, I’m not so sure, in my personal life, unless I simply have an effect, I really can’t explain that. But now, I can just direct that idea into a context that makes sense, so if I’m good at characters, if I could be, then I’ll keep inventing these characters I could try on. So I’ll work on BRITISH. Just the accent. And of course, a body, lol. I’m over it, just over the whole thing.

What a disaster! What a totally embarassing family! Lunatics. That’s the only thing that can be said. The rest, the sentiment, specifically, in BRITISH TONES, JESUS CHRIST the SENTIMENT. Enough! TRULY SPEAKING. It’s so AMERICAN! STOP! Picturing Somerset Maughm slamming down his book and reasoning with me, simply. ENOUGH! It’s so true though. I was in a fairytale! Ever British person would be able to understand what I mean, lol. I feel totally crazy! Luckily I met an actress. WOW. So funny.

So, as I told my Big Sister of Ameriaca, hilarious, I can hopefully direct these experiences somewhere, because I sort of have to, I was impacted too deeply by them, they really really impacted me. And who cares right? So, the Zen Master Sybil said, that care was really my problem. That was the session in which, she, I was speaking to her about how I tried to call my mother again, since I saw her at an awakening of sorts, I was starting to feel things, or question if I understood how I really felt, I don’t know if that’s the sign of someone repressed, I don’t know. I thought I had dealt with it, and NO, she was quick on the draw there, I hadn’t. Now, look, I think the best thing to do, would be to inquire further, not shut me down, exactly. “What’s starting to happen now?”

And take it from there. Just because what are you going to do with that? So, but, she said. That, my message to her was crazy. I was started to care about what happened, I think, and she questioned this stupid message I sent this bitch. Hey, it’s me, your daughter, just seeing how you’re doing…? Like someone I didn’t even know, right? And she slammed down her XXL iced coffee, as she would, and grabbed, clutched, onto her armrests and stared SHOOTING RAGE into my EYES. “What about FUCK YOU!” “Where the FUCK have you been?” And with the details we know now, “seriously?!” I’m telling you. And in her rage, she leaned in, “I care?” And I said, right away, no no, and she was rapid fire now — why? NO, why? Sniper. “Why?”

“I care?”

“I can’t say that.”

And that was the point. To her. “You don’t care.”

“You don’t INVEST.”

“That’s your problem.”

“You have to care to INVEST.”

This is why you can’t sit still, in a sense, why I’m living abroad, which she didn’t understand. SHE DIDN’T, sipping her XXL iced coffee. So there you go, that’s her, she helped me through this, just the little time I spent with her, because down the line, it got so dark. That was her final word to me…as I skipped off back to Paris… and that would be the point things started to turn… she begged me to stay. STAY. She fired rage into my eyes. I just couldn’t hear her. “Invest…” that’s all she said. Invest…

And if I look across the entire landscape, like WHO CARES? You went to LECOQ a couple of years, that’s fine! But I had NO VOICE like that, I had to reason with myself, and I had to SEAR through delusion, even from those in the world… meaning the people I met, how people reacted, the delusion with which people regarded me. Maybe a psychologist might say, “yeah that makes sense.” How utterly terrible. So there was a lot of delusion around that story, I don’t know what to say about my looks, yikes! Like, did some people write crazy stories around me for that reason? You know what I mean? And I had to LOOK through photos of models, diligently, LOOK through photos of actresses, LOOK through instagram handles, LOOK — LOOK through the field of “beautiful women…” CONFUSED. Not knowing who I am, landing on a picture of Brad Pitt, shrugging at that guy, and moving on… if one of them were to tell me, you’re so pretty! I would probably be surprised, I would take the compliment, simply, and just go, okay, maybe I was. I didn’t know, these people weren’t… telling me anything, you understand? I was just there, in an outfit, and I THINK, I think, I do not KNOW, that I have an appealing figure… because people told me. I’m just not like that. I don’t know what that means, and I don’t always feel that way, if you understand me.

Barbara Harris does. We’re on the same page there. We have NO idea.

But cool, I’ll just embrace it, and have much more fun… lol, you know what I mean? It’s my body, so I might as well have a good time. I agree. So. I mean, you might as well love what you got, those are my final words. No matter what. Like what you got. I just, don’t know what to say about that, strange. Maybe women feel that way, regardless, like they’re sexual objects, or they can be regarded that way. Strange. What I refused to know, see. Got that picture. Very clearly. Clear. A British voice helped me reach that “clarity,” or Severn Darden, moving with me through this. “Clarity.” Something about it, the vowel, lol. So anyway, good times ahead.

At least, I started dating again… like I met someone, normal. All normal. Nothing strange about it. Nothing wrong with it. Wanting to meet someone. Wanting things. Good, Maria, good, Cate Blachett “the good witch.” The true fairy godmother. There was just moments, when I thought, huh, people think of roles for people to play, like, people do that, no one cares. And I thought, huh, Cate Blachett — and I thought, she might go, “holy shit,” over that story. So I thought, yikes. Again, I’m just thinking: actress, and there they are… just looking at them, mothers, like you HAVE to be joking. Even Cindy Crawford? She broke the internet over her daughter, EXCUSE ME?? I turned. And I laughed, because I thought, wow, if she, as mother, if her daughter was in this situation? She would rip someone’s face off. And there was something about the ferocity behind that moment she had, which is funny, like, why do I know this? Why is this information coming to me? But I received it.

And that made me think about just the fierceness that I needed in this case. I needed to be fierce. There’s a time and a place for it, where, in my case I had to really channel rage here, like that was no okay, and I don’t want to remain SPELLBOUND, nice try. You know what I mean? When you feel like people are SO unaware, that it’s a touch too much, and you know, I can’t help that I came from those beginnings, so I might have been far away, in a sense, so that’s the zen master, right? She’s — fierce, fast, because of where I was at, I think, I think that’s what she thought. So I thank her from afar, because I even felt her, shaking her head, like, you’ve got to joking? The lie about him being a child molester, the whole ordeal that was not AT ALL there, between us, I wonder if I told her, even, aboutt the lie, I might have, but I really don’t know. So that was a revelation, most definitely. I hope it will bring out the best in me now, whatever that means, if I could tell powerful stories, that would be grand, if I could be good at that, I don’t know. I’m going to have to find that out, but that sounds like an awesome adventure. Figuring out life now. Living. Seeing real things in my future, as I came out of that with nothing. Was it necessary to sell my closet?

I guess so. Not to make a big thing of it. But my clothes were practically all I owned, which, looking back, I don’t understand exactly what happened, as I look through a treasure of a closet, type deal, where I liked ideas, even, though I might not have worn them, and I don’t know what happened, exactly. How I got to the last original apartment at the Chelsea Hotel, lol. It makes me laugh now. Barbara Harris, too. “What a strange home…” but she fits right in. It was so enchanted, it really was. It was an apartment that truly belongs in a novel, like I understood why Tomson wrote, in general, I understand the mind, it remained, if you would, now decorated by artists, but there’s some kind of continuity still. I understood the mind of a novel, or at least, one. And that’s where I was. I’m not THAT keen to re-embody it, if you would. I’m not on that page. But it’s attractive, sure… it’s reality, though, sitting there, and going, “okay,” shrugging, “you could do that.” Sure. You can do anything. But it was Arendtian, even. I could picture her going, and then, she moves there….

Huh. Wow. And she would follow the descriptions, wow, it sounds like an enchanting apartment, but it’s falling apart? Wow. This is so literal. Sheets over the furniture. A death trap. Not to say anything about the owners, I’m talking about my own life. This is where I ended up in my thirties. “Interesting.” Arendt. So she decides, I picutred her, thinking about it, to live for free — this man came into her life, at the Carlyle Hotel? Wow. Through this psychedelic group? Right? And there are known people in that group, HUH, that might have fascinated her, interesting. And I end up in this extraordinary place, right? And I’ll fall apart. But not like, I got discovered, I’m in a movie, and I suddenly reach success, let’s say… but that I end up in that apartment, and I’m going to figure out how to be a writer? You know? Funny. Like, most people are, “Hey, gotta get a job, place, and I got some ideas I’d like to write about, gotta meet up with some friends…” you know? Normal.

I took a turn. And this was, I don’t know if I would call it a mistake, but it was — a bit of a wrong turn, like, a bit looney, a bit nonsensical. It’s not my fault. I had to take responsibility for a lot, in my case, when it came to my parents problems… that was, my mother, truly, truly, these people, this family, whoever the hell they are, wow, they were truly crazy. But I had this beautiful closet of clothes… in the frame of a storybook novel, “the neverending story…” amazing, because the paint was chipping off the ceilings, as this apartment was the last man standing… during renovations, it held on, through that, so it’s the only one left. And I thought, these hotel people were small minded, because, turn the apartment into your best feature, why people go. Like Elaine’s, like, don’t touch it, just make it public, that’s all. So sometimes, the ceiling fell like a waterfall, in the closet… truly. That happened in there. Holes were drilled by the front door. And the owners just held on for years. NO. I’m so glad they did, it’s just, it was a rough moment. And the whole place was enchanted, like, one day, I noticed a cockroach, and I went running away…into the kitchen. I waited. Then, I stuck my head out, and saw the cockroach wasn’t moving, it was just sitting in the middle of 100 year old hardwood floors, the shade of blue on the walls from Naples, so it was animated. And, I didn’t want to disturb it, and I looked at the door — a considerable distance, but that’s probably what he was trying to reach… I figured. So I tip toed out the door, had things to do, and I left him the chance to figure it out. This is really what I did.

Then, I met a British guy, who had an idea about a cockroach, which he said first, a story. Amazing. I came back, and he was still there, so it took a second, but then I realized that he was dead. How strange. Because the living room is large. I looked at the vents…they were so far away, a day’s journey for him, lol, not really. But he dropped dead right there. I called the owner, she said, she had stuffed those vents with so much poison, NONE were getting past her, and HE did. I said, wow, that’s an extraordinary cockroach. I named him Wilbur. A nice cockroach. He would be remembered. This is what I mean about that Hotel.

So I was there. At a strange time. I think, now, I just wouldn’t even be here, though I might have visited, you know what I mean? Gone to go see it. Wish it the best… in surviving the FINAL showdown, it’s just funny that all happened at the same time. But I got through that, I don’t know what to say, successfully, and though I don’t know the full extent of it, whatever happened back there, was pretty crazy. And everyone looked at me with stars in their eyes, like, yeah, happens, you know, probably making it up… you’re confused… and it’s right there, right there. I nod… I do, “I get it,” but I’m about to send in “the actress.” She’s waiting in the wings, listening to all this. “Time to clean.”

“No no must be going, nice conversation, we’ll talk, we will.”

Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash

You are so much more than an X-Men character, my Big Sister of America said

I was envisioning the email I’m going to write to agents, right? As part of this exercise I’m supposed to do because I took a business-oriented class with someone who apparently developed a system that works — you reach out to agents. Wow, even, you know, hilariously, because you can…

So I was telling her I’m thinking about SELLING myself, which had taken time just as much as here homework assignnment has, which was, “figure out a way to make money online…” so I’ve been researching and over time, an idea emerged… so, I’m not totally there yet, I’m just letting that happen.

Similarly, figuring out what I want to do, how to sell myself, I’ve been going to open mics, taping them, watching myself, learning, and I had to laugh, I really did, in telling her about the shit people said to me — I was Professor X’s protegee. That’s how these people I met the past decade spoke about me, like I was an X-Men able to move on every plane of existence.

I was living in the 15th century, also, able to speak to animals, so I thought, I was “Heart” in the Captain America series meets PINK ranger MEETS Batman. They spoke about me, my psychic abilities, as if I were literally supernatural. (Or Beyonce.) But I thought, to her, I might be able to use it, you see, even to make the agent laugh if not intrigued to meet me. “There are people, real people who believe I am Professor X’s protegee, like I am the most psychic human being ever to exist, so—sci-fi? Fantasy flicks? An after-life character? The Sixth Sense?” Apparently, I can exist in these dimensions. So I might include a line…

She goes, “you’re so much more than an X-Men character,” she started, Linda Barnes from Bakersfield, shutting down real quick, and without meaning to make this connection, she went on to say I had “a wide range of talents,” and I couldn’t help see the PARALLEL, an idea Neapolitans remember coming into existence, Euclid. Everyone in Naples KNOWS what a parallel is, and what a mindblowing discovery it was!! Euclid. We were around at that time. We know that guy. Anyway, there you go, I suppose I had RANGE.

It was lovely talking to her, and we’re speaking more often, which means a lot to the both of us, as two women who are very much their own person… so we take affection or closeness step by step…so I like that about her. It makes me happy, her boyfriend happy, always, especially, that we’re in touch again, for real. So we clearly mean a lot for one another. Plus, you know, her parents are really getting older now—so she’s worrying about all that as a true worrier. Linda Barnes, good name.

Our first meeting was such a good, sweet scene, becasue I had requested for an Asian big sister, you see, at Big Sisters of America… on the brink of ten. I thought, after the Brazilian fiasco, that I would, shrug, embrace my life and pick a new country…maybe learn a language. I knew nothing about that region, so why not? And I was — thrilled, I took off at full speed down the hallway of Big Sisters of America and Linda Barnes described it, sitting in the case worker’s room as “Jurassic Park,” where the cup of water shook and thunder took off — full speed. I came to a sudden halt at the door, and she was framed in it, visibly WAITING for me, scary, to appear…? And the second I saw her, “hey she’s not Asian,” I snapped at the case worker. And Linda Barnes didn’t miss a beat, picking up her sloucy leather bag, “oh no, I’m definitely not Asian,” as she rose to her feet to “take in this picture.” She said, “and you,” you see, not missing a beat, “are not EIGHT.”

Our case worker, who might (or should be) Asian looked at the two of us, and did not intervene. "You know my age?” “You,” she looked at me as if I were interesting to her, “are almost ten…” and I was impressed she knew that. She delivered my birthday to me, without needing to refer to the file. And it was a great scene for her, because she requested eight, not ten, okay? Which is not the same thing, and it would have personal significance for her, that age. I wondered if she was on the Basketball team, because she was tall, and I was “short.” She was, very good, I was a smart girl, her type. I had so many questions… about Asia… she thought, we were in the same boat. She wanted eight, and I wanted Asian. I was looking to “see the world.”

So she ended up saying, what do you say we give it a shot? And I got scared, obviously, and she used her basketball language, “sometimes you just got to give it a shot, come on…” so I thought, okay! What’s Bakersfield like? I asked her, too, if she was southern, as she had a slight drawl, earlier in our conversation, and she was delightfully quirky, in her attitude, delivering her family was from Florida, “home of the casserole,” so we had a memorable first exchange. So we left, we didn’t even address our case worker, one of the most successful pairs, I think… we were a model Big Sister and Little Sister duo, it was known. So it means a lot to me that —

After my reckoning, awakening, break down, this thing, my Carl Jungian moment, also, depending on who you’re talking to, I reached out to my real network, right? Just because I had no idea WTF happened. That’s been a successful reconnection I’ve made over the last few years. She was someone who maintained real boundaries with me, though she sent me, lol, she found an old report card of mine… who never crossed a maternal line, which was important, but she did recall the time… and I remember her face, it’s truly funny how she responded… when I fearfully and confused (?) apparently? Called her “mom…?” When she picked me up from my house one night, and I thought, where did that come from? Had I just fought with my father? What was that? And her face, over this steering wheel, her eyes are blue. No no… no no no… and she very cleanly, unemotionally, just said, that’s not who I am, it doesn’t mean we don’t have a special relationship, but I’m never going to be this person, and that was a memory I really ended up appreciating.

On that note, as she has no idea what transpired back there, really, and there’s literally no point in bringing it up, like, she’ll get it in time. She asked me if I had heard from my mother, this quesiton, “I never heard from her,” Jesus. But then, it was a good moment actually because I eliminated ANY and ALL sentiment, “why would I want to talk to this bitch?” I told her of the last time a minion of hers reached out to me in a totally disrespectful fashion, so was this person real? Where this bitch is talking about me behind my back as if we had a relationship??? So I’ve been sending her MEAN subejct only emails — when I feel like it. She laughed. She laughed when I said I sent her the video of Christian Bale asking “why don’t we take care of our children.”

“Thought you’d appreciate this Dr. J.”

Stuff like that. I didn’t tell her the sordid details — but the “oh sorry” or the “feeling bad for me” routine or ANYTHING remotely sentimental — I killed it. That’s what I should have done a long time ago. NOPE. Who gives a shit about that woman? INSANE, she paid a woman to protect me from my father who she said was raping me! At four years old… lunatic! Like I give a shit about her phone call? So that was a successful moment for me. That’s it.

I am working on a pitch for Architectual Digest, we’ll see. Or an architecture magazine, so I’m trying to make it happen, I wonder if I’ll get a call back for that short I auditioned for, but WHO KNOWS? But I was proud of myself, right? I can talk to her about anything, and it’s not triggering for her that I’m speaking about not having much money right now, or just being in the place that I’m in, I’m not trying to get anything out of her, if that makes sense in talking nor do I like feeling like people are interpreting me… as I felt that way in the past. I’m not ASKING for anything, if I were ASKING for something, I would ASK directly, and there’s not a SLIVER in me that gives off that vibe, trust me. I’ve SEEN that person in action. Who’s indirectly trying to get something that they aren’t being direct about.

I have someone I enjoy talking to, someone I feel like I can talk to, who’s real, who isn’t trying to make meaning out of everything I’m saying or place my experiences on some larger mythic journey, like everyone feels that way… or whatever. She’s from another generation. She’s like almost 20 years older than I am, or maybe a little less than that, I don’t remmeber, but I think when I was ten, she was in her mid to late twenties, as in, she reached a point when I was just getting to France… where she made a committment to mentoring a girl or being there for a girl… we went out once a week, maybe we had moments where we did twice, but she and I would go out, which was fun, we go to the movies, dinner, and we would hang out, she wasn’t asking my father to pay for these… moments we shared. So she was at a place, where she felt stable, she had a solid job, her civic, nothing fancy… but she’s low key.

I like her character a lot because she has a profile that’s affecting, like she could have her own movie, type deal, which she would find funny because she doesn’t necessarily think of herself as that exciting of a person, but it’s not so much about that, she’s an affecting character with a real clarity to her, she’s lived in the same apartment for 40 years, practically, you know? One bedroom. Though she runs some fancy private medical investor’s world? So she’s a good person to shake up, or who could go on one of these moving and humorous (as she is very funny, in her own way) journey where it’s sort of Eat, Pray, Love — where she is reborn, even, at her age, a nice idea… she would find this all hilarious. My musings. You’d have to picture, off the bat, a character Jennifer Aniston could play… she would really get her humor, so she’s a person I’m happy to have right now.

She knows I’m starting over from scratch.

Anyway, I have to finish this pitch, and then I’m going to reach out to some archaeology mags, I don’t know, but just try and make some more work happen. I have to redo my writing portfolio, change that around, and just try to get more work. If I could make that work, I would be able to set my own work schedule, which would be ideal, so I wouldn’t hve to miss rehearsals getting SWITCHED in a flip, needing to run around. I decided to hang back a second, I was going to sign up for this casting director’s class at One on One, who does lots of theater, and there’s a meeting with reps afterward, which sounds great, but in that case, there will always be more, and I’m trying to focus on film. I want to refresh my appearance, I know, right? It’s the way it goes. I’m going to try a hifu treatment as it supposedly tightens up the face, and I’m sagging a bit in places, no worries, but — I’m going to spend a little money just updating my appearance, I have to get to Hairkillini, I can’t spell that and I can’t look it up right now. Or, “Ricky Lake’s shampoo.” They make a scalp treatment formulated for your scalp, and yes, when I did it for three months, I noticed a difference, actually, but I had to stop, I was moving around too much.

So I have to pay 250 for a consulation, get the product, and they have fancy supplements, but I just saw in British Vogue that they didn’t include them in an article about hair supplements which surprised me. I don’t know what that means, but maybe I can write an article about it, once I do it for a few months. Then, I want to spend some money and figure out my hair. I have no idea what to do, color wise, I thought darker, so I want to go to a “celebrity” colorist, for lack of a better term who can look at my skin tone, and go, this is what I think you should do. Dark and straight?

Right now, I’m just going to let it grow out… because there’s no shape, as my hair stylist said, because we just had to fix it, and I want to grow it out, so we’ll reassess in six months… so we’ll see.

I need to promote hair growth, just work on the health of my hair. And eventually, I’ll try and think about a STYLIST, for real, who might have solid ideas about the cut of my hair. So I’m going to spend the next couple of weeks refreshing my appearance, I’m going to sign up for this dental membership where I get teeth whitening included, and just make myself look a little better. I look better, that’s for sure, and I’ll continue to. I found a lot of Group On, actually, like a treatment for sagging eyelids, I just don’t know what that means, so I have to call and investigate. It’s like, what’s a face lift injection? Versus botox, versus hifu, thermage, there’s a lot out there. My lady in Istanbul, she does the threads across her cheeks. It’s like, I don’t know if I need lip fillers? I mean, a little. Stuff like that. I’m trying to be as… no botox, my goal being: get to Julianne Moore’s facialist. The one everyone goes to. But I’m not there, yet. In the meantime, though, I can check out other treatments, and they aren’t that much money… I mean as an intro, since the Group On is just, typically, a one-time thing, so I have to research these clinics, spas, etc., and just pick well, accordingly, and take it from there.

But I’m not spending 650 this second on this course, I figured, let me hold off, and see if I get a short film, something, and I’ll keep going to open mics and working on my material, I have good ideas for work I want to create… and you know, if you think about it, shrugging like Barbara Harris — “you just start singing…” right? “And soon someone gives you a mic,” shrug, “and soon there’s a big orchestra there…” so funny. I can figure out how to make videos, you know? Or a short film, eventually, I mean, I don’t know if that’s totally inaccessible. I need to make my own work, 1800 I’m Psychic, that’s my first idea, so I feel as though I have an idea I can start with, that’s easy to produce. I know how I want it to be done…I’ll ask the comics to help me, which they will, and just try and envision a set of videos that I can produce, post, and learn from. “1800 I’m Psychic.”

This psychic I knew, a Black woman, she said, “1800 not my problem—this is your new number,” that’s what she said to me. You know? Talking to my Big Sister of America, I just thought, you know, if I’m Professor X’s protegee, I might as well have some fun with it and figure out a character or angle that might be entertaining, funny, would allow me to explore range, all that stuff. Since “I have a wide range of talents” as a follow up to all that madness was truly funny. She’s communicating in quirky tones that I have concrete gifts like “talking to people…so YES go to screenings, TALK to people, you’re not weird…” We went to the premier of the film with Meryl Streep and Renee Zellweger, forgot the name, as the Big Sisters of America organization had been invited, so we went to a black tie event when I was twelve… I was in a velvet black dress from the Limited Two or one of these with a rhinestone butterfly on it. Just memories. Meryl was expansive… in taking me in. That was it. I’m off I gotta finish and then I have a date with a nice guy.

Honestly, I have to say, once I get a TINSY bit better off, I ran into an old friend randomly in the East Village who gave me the real Dakota Johnson in Materialist’s number, a woman with a matchmaking service, so I’m going to sign up once I feel a bit further along… I’m good, I have a hair style, you know what I mean? Earrings. My eyebrows in order. Better income. Stuff like that. I mean, I told Linda that, even if I had a full time day job, whatever that means, at least for the moment, in the position I am in, I’m going to need to keep my night job. Once you set a financial goal for yourself, everything sort of changes. Like, I was surprised at these geniuses I supposedly got involved with, because, even if I were to GET A MILLION DOLLAR ADVANCE ON MY BOOK (???) I mean, technically, that’s not enough to stop working… that’s money you make grow, you invest, right? Now I feel like I have my head screwed on. I’ll keep moving, but I always feel better when I talk to her, and that we’re back in touch.

I get back to me, I'll let this go, and think about the lessons in it

I keep thinking ahout Barbara Harris because she was vulnerable, and I ran into my own vulnerability, and it royally infuriated me. How much it SUCKED being vulnerable, oooo, how touching. Not really. A clusterfuck of confusion.

I’m working on an article for my writing job, one of them, about end of life pain, and why medications don’t work. So, I have to be grateful that I am alive and well. I want to get back to joy, as I always had an innate sense of happiness, but I got so knocked down, or I felt too many complications arise around a personality trait that I hesitate because I’m at the beginning again. I had to start over.

With a hand, I came from a super rich background, I assure you, it’s the first words coming out of my mouth. Super rich. I’m just here, you know, just exploring an avenue, you know. My family is fantastic, really, couldn’t be more normal, grounded, supportive. That’s it. I’ll make up some story about owning McDs…in Switzerland. Yeah, a few. I feel like wearing a wedding band, for my own protection. Oh yah, Wilbur is great. High school sweethearts. We’re just… two peas in a pod. Smiling. You’ll meet him soon. And NATE will dress up as WILBUR — and show up to this meeting in a bowtie. Anyway, it was SO nice speaking with you, about all this, and if you care to share anything about YOUR family, YOUR private life, please do.

So this is where I am, now. Ready. It was sort of the position to take.

I suppose I’ve been working for years, so I have that continuity, so I’ll just keep going, evidently, and I hope it will work itself out, I just don’t like the discomfort I feel with future-oriented thinking. Maybe, this guru came from money, I really don’t know what to say there, so his basic needs were never fueling what he was doing…? Funny, I had money in the bank, sure I wasn’t the richest person on earth, but I struggle with my decision making, where the focus was placed on my person. What I LACKED. So I’ll leave it at that. I think oftentimes, even with my cousins, they’re searching for alcohol problems, they’re looking at me like I went through some tragedy, and some people might look at me and say, there’s gotta be some skill, something you can use, and when I finish this EPIC mag version of Miracle Mile at the Beverly Hills Tennis Club, just analyzing the game… I think that will be clear, as I was obsessed with psychology, and maybe I could have been an investigator, something. I decided to be an actor, right? Because, there was no judgment there, I could play villains, I could play characters across a spectrum… and there was empathy in it, there was some revelation in it. People are communing, seeing themselves, not, analyzing character. I couldn’t DO it, but now maybe I can.

I mostly want to get over this part, so I can free up more time. I experienced a fair amount of frustation, and I did end up in a hospital.

Now the QUESTION IS, was someone really raped in my bedroom? No? Astounding. I came back from Miracle Mile… and my father told me that apparently the last owner’s housekeepers was raped in my room. And like, someone said, “that was the dementia,” but at this point, his dementia is some carnival ride… like what even was the ILLNESS? So I’ll leave it at that, today.

I just don't want to regret and I really do

Wow, you know, I looked up Amal Clooney and simply admired this person’s career. That’s a talented person, a remarkable person, as the guru called me, “remarkable.” For just sitting there. It’s not to say that everyone has to be her, but that’s sort of my standard. I’m also not being totally serious, but I woke up this morning still needing to process through these useless relationships I got into… that really hurt me. Forget my feelings. They hurt me, like I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I look back, like, okay, I happened to meet this plant facilitator who brought drugs into my life — sure, they were mind expanding, but I didn’t need to get involved in drugs disguised as some ritual — not to say they were used in that way as well, but for the most part, when I think about this guy coming to Paris (long distance?) with drugs…? I go…um? Why are you here? Wasting my time? Mouth totally open, Maria, mouth totally open, I’m impersonating Angelica Leibowitz in my mind. I really really didn’t want to get involved with drugs. Truly. Not my scene.

But I was vulnerable in a particular way, it shocks me. And then, once I get back to the states, of ALL the people I could have gotten involved with, in this group, I got involved with a fascinating character, but a controversial one, one who “sometimes treats people in unimaginable ways” according to my ex. Like, why did you encourage a friendship between us? I mean, “um, you need to maintain a bit of distance there.” He didn’t say that. In fact, I remember this night, he did too many drugs, okay? Drugs are medicine too. And my ex goes, “you’re going to have to go up there.” Haha, today? “That’s not my problem.” You deal with your own shit. NOW I have the picture.

Oh no…I just go, noooo, in the movie version of these years, I came from a background, you see, which made me vulnerable. And the thing is, very reputable people are involved in this group, they “journey.” I don’t have a problem with it, it was just royally not what I needed. Of course, I’m going to get involved, too involved, unnecessarily involved. Where now, the slytherin, what I call him, he wants to help me…. as someone who wanted to…be a writer…as someone who mentors people? Peering at this guy. “Who have you mentored?” He wanted to mentor people on drugs, basically, and according to that world, that’s fine. They might bring out your gifts, or something. I don’t know what to say about that. But he “knew I was a writer” upon sight. I THINK, in the movie version, that would… strike people as…uh oh. Just because it was AMAZING if not comical to me — the GURU wants to HELP ME MANIFEST REALITY… like that’s really the secret to it all, when he would NEVER have acted that way with the guy my age, his partner’s son, I think, NO WAY. He wanted to be a script writer, this guru isn’t telling that guy what he told me, I seriously doubt it. “Throw the ball against the fabric of reality…” that’s cool if that’s what he does in his spare time? But my friend who introduced me, an artist, even, he’s not talking to her like that. ME? I was SPECIAL.

And you know what? I really wish I wasn’t special, you know? I really really wish this guy didn’t think I was special. And Amal Clooney would be reading these lines, “okay? What made you special exactly?” I don’t think I’m selling myself short. It was interesting that these men wanted me to sell myself short, actually. Looking at the guru, I get that I could be famous? I could succeed? It’s just, what’s novel or groundbreaking about that statement? And I was just minding my own business… writing a book, I was working on it, and I hate that fell prey, actually. To a truly arrogant man’s VERSION of me, which was not TRUE. He spoke with SUCH authority, and weirdly, he was a weird guy, like, would he describe himself as “the normal type?” Hm, I doubt it. Pointing at women like he’s a guru… in public, too. Why is he acting as if he’s Alexander the Great’s teacher?

I just had to start over, completely. Now I don’t know why I was beckoned to these dark corners, but what about love? Getting married, having children? I didn’t want those things, but now, it’s a different story. I don’t know what it was about me, other than my LOOKS, that made me so remarkable. And I say that, with heartache, because, if I was a GOOD person, I was disrespected, so that didn’t necessarily bring me GOODNESS. It’s like the Russian stick masseuse said, “you are light, and the dark likes the light.” If these men could just take a moment to self-reflect. What about this set-up ON SCREEN even, yes, public facing would appear… like a good idea? You know? It would be fascinating, in that, Maria found herself in outer space… where she got somewhat seduced by glittering pictures, successful men, and one woman, who I can’t even talk about she was such an opportunist, like sure, I couldn’t AFFORD to do this, so WHY, to my EX, who I want to slap most days, why did you bring me into this? I was shocked. I look back and go, WHY am I doing this? From beginning to end. I cannot even believe I ended up here. Someone of my “elite” status, as the slytherin called me “elite,” another residual from this, “Maria could be a Duchess,” hilarious. The only problem? I did not like hierarchy. And now, now that I have my problems with POWER sorted, yeah, none of these relationships would have been possible, because I wasn’t making a CHOICE to take a lower status in relation to other people, BY CHOICE. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t respect someone like that. Bad move, not a good move. If you really feel that way, try service, as a vocation— go into public service. It’s not that it isn’t valid. I got eaten alive by these relationships. And none of these so-called “trauma” experts, no offense, heard anything that was coming out of my mouth? I was blown away.

Wow, being pretty, having a nice wardrobe, that really didn’t help me, truly. I mean, I GET I was attractive, but that wasn’t my deal. I don’t know what to say, because these men didn’t necessarily tell me I was beautiful, I mean, in passing, indirectly, but what do I care? In any case, that was bad, really bad. I grain away in horror, you see, over the past decade, whereas this slytherin conitnues to believe I wanted his other mentee? No no, you don’t understand, the entire production was like a horror show to me. Where I’m graining away from this so-called 400 dollars an hour psychologist? What was she doing? She wasn’t qualified, I guess, I mean, I couldn’t even believe that no one thought, “hey, Maria,” (the sexual trauma specialist throwing up his hand, tough subject), “maybe we should crack open those years…?” Hilarious! Utterly hilarious. I didn’t like wearing attention-grabbing clothes, I started going in another direction. It’s like, truly speaking, this guru was totally wrong, he didn’t read me correctly at all. He wasn’t that wise. There was nothing wise about the moves he made. But like his brother, they really like to give unsolicited advice. They might check that. They like to sit in the position of “wiseman.” I just don’t know WHY. Feels a bit self-centered. Like, I look back, like why am I having a birthday dinner with these men? These are friends? In the 15th century you would have been the one to speak to animals? I laugh, sometimes, I really do. It’s not so much a problem knowing a bunch of different people, it’s the level of involvement, that I personally didn’t want. I didn’t want to get THAT involved. Would they? Would they want WOMEN even, coddling them, strangely, not really interested in them, but vaguely, sure, but these women wanted to “help them,” with mindsets? Like, would they want to spend their time that way? To hear, “yeah as the hot guy…” in passing? Does that sound uplifting? Think about it. Put yourself in my shoes.

Contemplate, in the words of Barbara Harris.

WOULD YOU WANT TO BE ME? I can tell you the easy answer is “no.” Um, maybe I might — in this case, no. I was going to say, maybe every now and then we can get esoteric? You know? But probably, it’s a no. I don’t need to be in some weird ass pupil relationship. No offense. I’m Maria Mocerino. I was in a sex scandal when I was four. Now fuck off. Show me some respect. What the hell did these so-called geniuses have on ME? What do they know about LIFE? Go ahead, tell me. Tell me something I didn’t already know. Across the board. I had even JESUS problems, I mean, just wrestling with the world, and sure, there are other ways of operating, except, not for me, not for a “pretty girl?” I truly didn’t THINK or KNOW that I was THIS PERSON. Wow! I was blown away. Because to anyone and everyone, WHY these men wanted to HELP ME, literally, when I needed no help, I do not know. But help was a real shadow. I look at my childhood with a fair degree of horror.

Wanting to scream at my second surrogate mother — what the fuck are you doing? Her husband was clearly uncomfortable with this relationship. She should have listened to her husband. UGH, I don’t know if everyone can relate to this, and I’m not seeking to RELATE TO EVERYONE ON EARTH because it feels as though my circle at least, they just want to RELATE RELATE RELATE. I felt my life go down the toilet, though I don’t want to evoke that kind of imagery, but it was a rapid fleeting sensation that the whole thing left me… I really do feel as though I had two lives. Everything that came before thirty six, about, and now… a new life. Wow, I suppose I felt humble. The entire thing was a “no.” I was definitely worth more than that, I think, and at these points, I see life as a series of choices. You’re making them most definitely. I made choices throughout my life that weren’t totally conscious, like I wasn’t going to make a reach in the world, because I was “against it,” against hierarchy, power plays, I rejected my mother’s buffonesque genius, as she appears some real pussy whitehead — genius! A star! Wee! Sex scandals!!! Parading through Beverly Hills out of her limo… her tits hanging out. Mayhem. A level of disrespect of self, heartbreaking doesn’t even begin with her. So I had problems to work out…and my way of being… left me in outer space, but not just any outer space. I don’t know if these were bored rich people. But these were men with nothing to lose.

And you know, I made my choice to stay, listen to them, you know? I’m just graining away. They were the opposite of wise. And I’m not even against drugs, to be honest, do whatever you want. I don’t know. But I saw enough unawareness around drugs. Meaning, they have an effect. My closest friend began talking like, “the mushrooms are telling me to get higher…” like we should all be high, all the time. Nodding, wishing I had gone into the FBI, (laughing) CIA, something like this, I’m sure they did. That’s not a good sign. I just couldn’t believe that I was…sort of surrounded by drug users, like, no no no. No no no… I don’t know what happened! Sorry, no no.

And the thing is, NOW, on the other side of all that, NOW I’m going, I could have been an investigator, I could have been potentially gifted at fornesics, something like this, given the skills I could have developed. Like who gives a shit about my feelings? Looking at this guru. I didn’t need to be manhandled, in other words. NURTURE, this guru would emphasize words in a way that makes me CRINGE, because he was manipulative. He wanted to NURTURE me? Can you imagine? Did I need nurturing? It was like, an overactive mother? I don’t know what that was. I was a total mess. For four years. I was PSYCHIC TOO PSYCHIC CREATING MY OWN REALITY GO AHEAD SPEND YOUR IRA MONEY BECAUSE YOU CAN MEDITATE THE MONEY INTO EXISTENCE…whoa!

I look back on it all, heartbroken. Heartbroken that I wasn’t able to see what was happening, how these men even treated women? They did not see me at all. Jesus Christ, I mean, at every step, no one heard me. Do I even want to see my cousins in Italy again? Not really. I mean, holy shit, that was a nightmare. They SHUT ME DOWN, it’s like, the guru did the same thing. The first time I met him, I say, “that’s what it’s about.” And he shut me down. Now, I would throw something at him. GET OUT. “You arrogant prick.” Day one — WHO are YOU? I had to meet THIS GUY.

In any case, I don’t care, actually, I am not in a place where I can paint pretty pictures. What can I say? That’s the place I’m in. Charging into the world with joy, i was happy anywhere, so I don’t know if that worked out for me. My MINDSET I don’t know if that was a problem, because interacting with the world presented so many problems, and it was — maybe not simple, but it was structural. This guru seemed to believe I didn’t believe in myself… in what regard? What does that mean? I was writing… wasn’t I? And that’s where this guy came in to manhandle my life. There was nothing WRONG. I had only just begun. It’s called keep it in your pants. I hated that I stroked these mens’ egos, really. So now, I have no clue…I keep working on my writing, on the side, sort of wishing I never took this path, but I hope that I’ll be able to break ground… but I don’t know what kind of book I want to write. In the end, I might go through the entirety of my life like Forrest Gump, like this was… this is what happened… I don’t know yet. I’m just reading right now, really simple, really effective, no need for meditation exactly or downloading information, and I’m giving myself some time to figure out that part of it… and for the pieces I’m working on, they’re taking time… I find that to be the most annoying aspect of writing. I’m not someone who has been able to produce anything yet, but my exchanges with this guru — wow. I guess even Weinstein, people in these positions, they can make obscenely stupid decisions.

Like, people didn’t understand WHY the teacher targeted Amy Griffin, because she was wealthy, well, I mean, nothing happened to him though. There were no consequences for that guy. So what are these people talking about? That NYTIMES article was utterly bizarre. I was moving through these lines… like is this even true? I mean, any of it? What did it matter? It didn’t change anything for that guy. So why NOT target her? Don’t be ridiculous. Anyway, I feel like I’m getting geared up to get back on the mic, because I have a lot to talk about. I’m getting more comfortable up there, I just went through exquisite pain, over a stupid sex scandal, and questioning it, to get SHUT DOWN by people I do not speak to anymore. And am I supposed to?

WOW, imagine? I hope I’ll make people laugh. “My mother now???” This phrase. “Is Mexican?” Um, okay… I’m going to need a second. Because she was a teacher at my high school, and she became my mother… there you go! I need a second for sure. I wouldn’t have done anything that I did, which I’ve tried to COMMUNICATE but no one is hearing me. I am in a — wow, I just got PERSPECTIVE on my whole life. I have no idea if I was ABUSED sexually, hello? By my parents. And every day, I try to get a little closer to SUCCEEDING in putting that story out there, because no one reading it is going to know what to do with it. I couldn’t even believe how my friends treated me. Mental health, look, just avoid it… if you can. You do not want to venture in there. You’re going to get VAGUE you’re brave, for? Going through a medical emergency? What? People have no IDEA that you’re going through a real experience. Was there sensation involve? Yes, too much in my case. Yes, there’s a MENTAL component, you know? The body is… a whole organism. I mean, I feel like I’m speaking ANATOMY 101. Where I should pull down a diagram of the human body, so… I truly couldn’t.

I just hope that I figure out — a happy ending. Where I look around and take a satisfying deep breath. This is my life. It reflects who I feel I am, as I — didn’t understand what happened. This isn’t me. And people were like, “this is so you…” when I wasn’t so sure. So I hope I’ll continue coming into the world, because it was less my parents, though I’m clueless there, I got to the end of a short I’m working on for a magazine, the waking up through the story — going, what? Did you say you didn’t know how my mother handled me? And the sexual trauma specialist, he’s validating I came to the right place, okay? YEAH, he’s not soothed, he’s NOT soothed by my mother. “She’s tossing you to strange women,” who cares? “She’s running into church accosting the priest with her rapes?” I truly…peered through this, going, “wow.” She’s looking for sex downtown. I mean, wow. She was a sexual deviant. But no no no, it’s not possible, she couldn’t have REALLY put you in a sex scandal… and you have to picture my four-year-old face, looking around corners… now living in a different house…? I’m against natural obstacles like ATTENTION SPANS… feelings I do not understand… I am FOUR, I get cranky, imaginative, strangely obsessed with a task… and at times, alert. Where am I?

So to SOOTHE ME, right? This specialist just said, “you know what? Yes, she could have really done this to you…” sure. I was already in this situation. The disbelief I received, um, for someone who was already in a situation, that required calling social services, why did I have to incur more pain? Looking around for this PETER, who is this PETER who is crying WOLF about something like this? And you know what? I think the truth is, he doesn’t really exist. And if he does, which I think he does, WHY are you doing that? However, his existence isn’t the point, the people who doubted me — where is this PETER? This PETER that you know? That was a nightmare! Ugh, so, I’ll keep the faith. NOW, to be honest, I would understand… if someone were to remark that I was remarkable… because now, I evidently had problems… that brought me to my knees, like I could have died, or something, and it felt like way, that I died… with this guru, utterly horrifying, casually unemotionally telling me he THINKS (based on nothing, no questions) that what I went through, sitting on a floor with pain in my vaginal area, was “what it’s like on the other side…”

I — I’m sorry? I make jokes right? Like the Neapolitan in me is going to throw a block party for SURE in Beverly Hills — we’re going to protest, dance, damage public property. Storm the adminstration building for fun, revolt against government, break out into songs, pass around food… kill the mercenaries. I really felt that way, like I sort of died, but um, how to describe not knowing if my own parents… took advantage of me? At four years old? I can’t even look at a picture of them. It’s beyond an argument. Beyond mentally ill. It’s criminal. On most days, I’m not thinking about it. I’m mostly trying to get to mental stillness, no pictures. No biking in place, stationary, trying to get somewhere.

What I’m trying to do now, is give myself some space — to not close down, to expand, actually, even if I feel like I have no idea what’s next. I felt so broken down, and what would these men say? I was, what? A nice person? Truly. Am I supposed to keep marching, with joy, as I did in the past, but no one GOT IT? It was a choice? Do you know what I mean? Yikes, and with my former best friend, imagine that I defy all odds, and I end up in Hollywood? Where I truly belong, apparently????? Laughing, I’m laughing. I hadn’t even finished a book yet, and this guy was already in a movie, seeing me on late night talk shows…? Discussing sex scandals? “As someone who came from a sex scandal, if I may…” like, OMG OMG OMG, we need to CAST HER, now! Thety go apeshit. I was AMAZED. Um, I suppose that would be a moving sequence of events… but? Is he going to try and call me to get an audition? You know what I mean? When I had to start over, PAY money for auditions, you know what I mean? Because, I just started putting myself out there again as a performer, but it’s like anything else, it takes time to develop… oneself. I hope the stars will align. I guess I felt like I really had to leave my old life behind.

I gotta get to work, before I get to work, but I hope I find a way that works, that I’ll take that deep breath, that I’ll feel like I really reached my full potential, which is all I have to say right now. That was disturbing, overall. The sexual trauma specialist would agree. I feel like projecting a photo of my parents on the comedy wall— can we examine these people? ARE THEY THESE PEOPLE? PLEASE. I was 4, 7, I was so young. And these men treated me as if I were a trivial thing, I am amazed, because I guess that was really difficult to follow, I guess there were Arendtian problems of not being SEEN, literally, problems of discomfort with the UNKNOWNS.

Remember: if you’re trying to heal anyone, don’t. It’s not going to work. Okay? That’s first. If you like to “help” people, think about that… think about whether or not you’re actually helping someone. Generally, helping people is one of these complicated arenas. Read PSYCHE, I do, the MAG, and they wrote an article about it. Does this person need help? Again, none of these men are going, “oh my God, you’re so talented, you really are, at writing…” you know? Let me call… someone. Send me something you wrote. No? You know what I mean? So, I still don’t totally get it, but people like people, simply, and they want to help them out, “you seem like a lovely person, really,” which would have been fine, it’s more so that I wasn’t thinking properly, like I was trying to be open to LIFE happening to ME. So sure, psychedelics, when that wasn’t my interest. “No worries, just practice writing…” well, there’s no trajectory in it? My friend was like, “where do you want to end up?” In the end, I have better resources around me. But then, really, I wasn’t interested, exactly, in being a journalist. Am I writing about family? I don’t know about that.

I came from an unusual set of circumstances. The guru said, “life isn’t about what you wanna do, it’s about what you wanna know…” and he believed my life idea was “family.” Okay. I did not want to write about family, that was just a story I wanted to WORK OUT OF. No offense, that story isn’t about family… I had maladaptive patterning. So I’ll keep expanding, growing, I’ll keep insisting and hopefully I’ll break new ground soon. I mean, I suppose I could write an article about Murray Bowen, like, listen up families — it’s “blunt talk” time. Smiling. Okay? I was in a few, basically, and it’s time to break down what I learned.

So right now, I’m resting upon Bowen, because he doesn’t think that there’s normal, so if you’re emotional, you’re not necessarily pathological, as long as equilbrium is maintained. I feel all over the place right now, but that’s how I feel right now. Like, that’s what I inspired? It wasn’t exactly flattering. These were strange dynamics. I was not interested in being this person. At all. Like, I wanted to stop seeing this psychologist, right? The slytherin’s psychologist. And she said something about me being the scholarship kid? Hunny, we made too much money, not to put YOU down, as YOU clearly have a lot of money, or are playing that card, but I wasn’t the scholarship kid. And, despite the questions, my mother was a gangster, I mean, for better or for worse, she was a con artist, she had skills, she was a good marketer, someone who made an impressive amount of money as a tax expert? She taught at USC, even, a fact that, at four, I demanded to be taken at once. No way this woman could TEACH. My BOW in silhouette in the car. I ran down the hall…no way!!! My nose against the glass, I was blown away. And my father was an aerospace engineer, a rocket scientist. SURE, I didn’t live in BEL AIR, you know? I mean…?

HOW did I become this?

Look, a gangster has its… respects. It’s hard to explain. I have to take my parents in pieces that don’t connect. It was so bizarre. So I’m joking around, but I really really didn’t understand what happened. So I wasn’t a Rockefeller, you know what I mean? I didn’t come from A FAMILY of wealth and prestige… I still don’t get it. I mean, these plant people in my direction — that was sort of a joke. It didn’t empower me, people. Wasn’t that obvious? I do not want to DISCUSS this story at a journey, no offense. And NO ONE on earth is going to tell me, “why?” Why is that, Maria? Why don’t you want to discuss it? WHY would you want to talk about this? You see the difference? Keep that on the DL, chill. Just don’t get lured… I HAVE to SHOW that I am a NORMAL person, meaning affected, yes, because if I don’t, I get FLACK, you see what I mean? WHY are you so unaffected? I don’t know, look at yourself in the mirror, are you SHOWING your feelings to people? Be real. Either way, couldn’t win. Gender favoritism is very real. I came to, uh, WOW, realize that.

You see, the ridiculous nature of how I was designed? I was the problem, in my family, you see. I was the “piece of work,” when now, beware, I will obliterate you in public, as I did my father. NO, it’s not “that guy didn’t stand a chance.” THAT GUY PUT YOU IN A SEX SCANDAL. WAKE UP. Judge Judy? Judge Judy would have incinerated my parents on TV. She would have torched my parents. “Are you an idiot?” To my father. Truly speaking. I had to LOOK at a MATT DAMON poster to begin this awakening — and I have to laugh. DAMON? MATT DAMON? I said to myself, approaching this poster, “no way…he would not understand any of this…” I’m pretty sure. No offense, but I got through this story right now, anticipating the CRINGE from the reader, OH MY GOD, he’s calling, acting weird??? Oh no… then he requests to visit? Hmmmm? And I’m feeling BAD for this person? This Angelica Leibowitz, I’m telling you, when I actually GRASPED what happened over these four years, the only thing I could think was: SCRIPT.

It’s a fucking script. Just, she invites him over to her house, at the end of these years, right? Fuck the kid. She’s a piece of shit anyway. That’s what the story was… and now, I can just say that, SPARE ME your talk of “it not being true,” I’m simply STATING what it was. And she tells him, look, your wife lied about you… because she BOUNCED, disappeared, no money left, and he’s — acting like the Confederacy of Dunces. Oh cool, he says? She can stay here while “he figures it out…” and I became obsessed with this scene. I’ll keep working on it. Just, this mother, who cares if she’s Brazilian, staring at the door. DING DONG, all innocent. She doesn’t KNOW, imagine me giving this direction AS THE GURU—pointing DOWN. “She doesn’t KNOW…” and HE???? Someone might have to embrace ambiguity… right? Wouldn’t actors be… so excited to be working on this scene with me? I laugh because people didn’t get it, why are you so excited about it? Well, it’s a good scene. You gotta take what you can. So, in this case, the scene was… ? Was he? Was he not? I’m telling you… there’s potential, I mean, if someone TOLD me, AGAIN, you see? That’s what my mother told her, I would maybe have lost my shit. However, ANGELICA convinced herself, which is not the same thing as BELIEVING… not the same mask. She convinced herself it wasn’t true, because she was in looney tunes. So, there you go. Does Nick, the father, wake up, is he innocent? Guilty? I saw all these possiblities existing, which is how I made peace with it.

I didn’t have to feel bad about that part. But me personally? Devatasted. My mother’s hatred of me, her true rejection of her, wow, to Angelica Leibowitz, that was intense. I think, in her opinion, it was part of why she believed it was true… that my mother utterly rejected me. And I hate Ghomi, truly. I hope I destroy his house. My mother too. A curse on both your houses. It’s just a line in a play. Who even was this guy? Amazing. Anyway, I’m at the end, gotta go, gotta go do things, I have an article due tomorrow. I have to think — jobs? What do I do? I’ll keep getting up there… I don’t know if I can get to an open mic today but maybe I can, we’ll see. I still hang onto this side blog, I still hope that M Night Shyamalan will say, yeah, that Beverly Hills guru, that’s a picture, motion picture. Or something. It just, I think, I don’t know, it just doesn’t look good. It doesn’t reflect positively on him, acting like a GURU.

“The theme here is nourishment…”

Oh my God, that comment left me breathless, looking back. He’s FEEDING me. Why he had some sick take on all this, it was truly disturbing. In the end, “was I fed?” I was a mess. “YES,” he said, cryptically, and if he could EXERCISE his so-called genius, to THINK that I was MANIPULATED severely, so he might want to get some professional help. Meaning, HIS FEELING SENSE is not superior. He is not a supreme being. “And I suspect you weren’t bathed either.” BYE! Who cares? That guy didn’t care about anything other than himself. Unreal. May he be immortalized. I am not a merciful ruler. Not in this case. I hated this guy.

Of course, she’s IN a sex scandal, when she’s four, and she’s going to end up in some bizarre relationship with some Hollywood guy. Ridiculous! I feel like putting on a bolero, and calling myself “your virgin Queen,” as Cate Blanchett did as Elizabeth. I will walk the streets of Beverly Hills, proudly, one day. I assure you. I doubt he will be able to even look at me. I will lift my arm, like Jesus did, and point like a guru, from time to time. “You do not need to manage it, manage the shift in reality…”

Another stupid post about this guy.

Alright, another shift

I’m having a glass of wine in a glow, in my room, at the end of a shift. I’m almost at a clear head again where I can just write a sentence without “the future” or “the audience” channeling through my thoughts, as these gurus from Beverly Hills were obsessed with “the future writes the past,” which was damaging, even. They gave me channeler tapes. One of the exercises in these so-called Da Ben tapes was to reach out to your future audience. I’m already exhausted. The guru suggested downloading the information from the future to write the book with the desired outcome I’d like to have. I almost wept on the restaurant floor this evening, why? Why me? That’s exactly right. I wish the guru passed over, pass-over, please. I couldn’t meet a normal person, right? I couldn’t even believe how unlucky I was. Of all the people I could have met — I met these psychic men, only men. What a nightmare. I can’t change anything. I can’t change how I lived my life up until this point. so I don’t want to regret my life. It’s like the guru is a haunted house, like someone who causes me true horror. I did not need to get into a strange relationship with an older man. And here we go, again, I’m tired, that’s why. I ended up, right now, this evening, regretting ever taking an artistic track. Truly speaking. These men were so haughty taughty, like, I never ASKED to be the LADY GAGA or JOAN DIDION. Holy moly. ANYONE CAN BE THEM. Exhausted. The grad film scene I was supposed to do tomorrow got canceled last min, due to a need to change the rehearsal time, so I can’t do it. I have to work tomorrow. I had to remind myself that — it’s just like that, one min it’s happening, the next, it might not be. So that’s alright. It was a little disappointing, because I was so looking forward to it. Why did I create that reality, guru? Um, you know, I think it’s easier to chalk it up to a coincidence, that the film grad world moves extremely fast, so plans change, I don’t know if I need to take responsibility for — just life. But I guess that man was desperate for meaning, in some capacity. In general, I think no expectations is the best approach, where you’re just neutral — neutral. I just hate that I can’t write, anymore, without the future plaguing my thoughts. And to tell me that “I wanted this,” no, I did not. Many many many people would not agree with that ideology. Some might call it dangerous. I can’t. I got horror images of the guru, I had to keep evacuating this person out of my mind… I have no idea what I was doing generally. Why would I be here? I didn’t need manifestation help. NOW, yeah, I do, I guess. Just, the rudest awakening. I try to hold myself through these moments. I have to ask some psychologists about “the feeling drives reality…” I wonder what they would say to that. I, personally, suffer from that idea, because, no offense, you can put on a pop song 24/7, and feel elevated, uplifted, but that’s not driving your reality. And the part that really sucked, was there anything WRONG about how I was feeling? If it’s not BROKE, why FIX it? WHAT WAS — communicating, I hate this guy, that I needed HIS help? WHY? I eliminated ALL vulnerability. Eliminated it. If that’s what made me special to him, that has nothing to do with writing, I mean, sure, “she has an exquistely vulnerable voice,” that’s not the feedback I’m getting. If my PERSONALITY was my ASSET, why not just SAY that? You know what I mean? WHY is some FILM guy trying to help a wannabee book writer MANIFEST reality? Do you know what I mean? Why?

Anyway, I get frustrated when I’m tired. And, you see, shit happens. Stuff gets canceled, things get moved around, it’s probably best to keep a level head, about it, whatever it is. But no, PROJECT YOUR MIND to a FUTURE POINT, the POINT where the book is COMPLETE? And I wonder, is that how this man worked? He’d meditate on the final product? What I’m saying is, that didn’t work. Channeling information, yikes, did not help. That was totally insane, in my opinion. Out of ALL the approaches one could give, suggest, channeling was not what I needed. But these men, they didn’t come from my background. Like could you SAVE the controversy for someone who didn’t already come from controversy? Someone who didn’t come from a totally insane story. What SENSE does it even make to assume that something like this is a ONE SIZE FITS ALL? Since when? I hated this men, they were absolutists, in desire to parcel out advice that wasn’t asked for… I have my moments, what can I tell you, because “Everyone has a magical self, POKE,” as this guru “poked” the fabric of reality “sending ripples” with IDEAS such as magical self where events seemingly unfold, effortlessly, there are moments like that… he’s giving advice to someone who calls him, his brother gets a phone call from a crazy lady… I didn’t want to be apart of this weird group of people who called these men for advice, and it’s like, why? Why them? Who are these people? Geniuses? Well, so was Dr. J. The geniuses I met, in any case — came with weird shit.

I keep wanting to find whatever is going to bring me abundance and happiness. I hated that story, Miracle Mile, just hated it. It brought me nothing… but I can’t give up, have no idea what to do, because the decisions I made were beyond stupid. SO stupid. And I didn’t see it coming, and I keep trying to let it go… but I would suggest, before meditating, read. Just don’t write, even, just read for a while. “Practice writing.” I think about that suggestion and it sounded like a joke. Taking whatever job to practice writing… nothing I did brought me anywhere… like, a house. Like buying a house. I have nothing, at least, right now. That breaks my heart. I don’t have a house. I don’t have things. BUT OOOOOOOOO YOU'RE PSYCHIC. I felt like a joke. So I get sad sometimes. I was better off without the plant people, no offense, better off without the Beverly Hills gurus… so bedtime, another week at this restaurant. I don’t know what to do. I just can’t believe I’m here. So it’s another one of these nights. Where I regret everything. Where I just cry to this weird ass man who couldn’t keep it in his pants over my story. Like, haven’t I been through enough? Meaning, WHY did he come into my life? I didn’t ASK for HELP. He shattered my soul. He was a frightening person— to me. So maybe I’ll use him for this Moth night coming up, as he horrified me. The past, horror show. That relationship, I just — I sat down this evening, like, why didn’t you go out…and try to find a boyfriend? Make friends, normal friends? Look, even THEY, I THINK, would ADMIT that they aren’t normal — they aren’t normal people. So I grieve these terrible relationships. I really ran into trouble when I decided to write… I have friends, I’ve made friends, luckily, I always have them, but I did not build a life… I feel breathless sometimes not knowing WHY I was doing what I was doing. I never thought that I could ever feel as not special, ever feel so lost, not knowing what to do, because i wish I had a husband, a job that actually made me happy, this YOU’RE LADY GAGA shit — why? So, I’m just having a night. I’m going to go to sleep now and try to keep forgiving myself for getting involved with these HORRIBLE men. Writing ruined my life. That story ruined my life. I think back on my cousins, nightmare. What a nightmare that was.

I can’t even deal with “my mother now.” It’s a — total reject. WHY am I HERE? I have no idea what to do, sometimes, on nights such as these, I just WANT the future in which EVERYONE I KNOW AND DON’T KNOW IS READING THESE WORDS OR MY WORDS to go away. Anyway, that’s it for this evening.

I saw an old friend at my restaurant. A friend from my youth. I don’t think he saw me, but you never know. I hid. I regret ever doing anything artistic. I regret, this evening. I never thought I could ever feel that way. Just so stupid. That was so stupid. I’ll keep opening up to what I could do now. I really wasn’t THAT BLOWN away by my stupid family story. I didn’t want this to control my life. Jesus, in Paris, I was fine, but the moment I decided to write about these years… and I met that plant medicine faciliator — like, nooooooooo. Go away. I never felt so disgusted with my looks, like what did I attract? I’m just trying to get it out because I just don’t know right now, I don’t know what to do, keep looking for jobs, I work on my writing pretty much daily… wishing I never decided to write, hating this guru for being such a liar. I read back on these drafts that I sent him, horrified. WHY did he LIE? I look back totally embarrassed. Horrified at myself, for sure. Shivering at “you must become the extraordinary man,” like why is this man speaking to me like this? Over a book? He was, the worst thing that ever happened to me. So I suppose I can say that I struggle with a personality and self that led me where I ended up. Where this asshole insults me, just so — you would have spoken to animals in the 15th century, just a jerk. I hated these geniuses. “YOU’RE SPECIAL,” the guru PROJECTING 1001 NIGHTS otno me, like the neverending story here. Most of my friends think that sounded cultish. Not to say I am not special, but I impersonated him, like, this is what this guy did. Just a girl at a cafe. I didn’t get “discovered,” you know what I mean? I got some dude…. wanting to get into my personal life…. vulnerable.

I wish I could start over, sometimes. No, no, no, it’s one of these impossible dreams, to be able to turn back the clock, and just say NO. Please go away. So I can’t do that. I’ll keep going, I’ll keep separating, mostly, from him, them, the whole decade, and I’ll figure out if I want ANYTHING to do with my past, at all, because that subject matter sucks royally. But of course the GURUS are psychic so they know whether it’s true about my father or not, isn’t that right? They know most things without needing to ASK a question.

I want so badly to reach a point where I don’t regret, reach a point where I’ve either alchemized these experiences or they just get to neutral. For the most part, I’m alright, it’s the MAKING IT head fuck, the YOU’RE DOING IT, ALL OF IT, it’s the Wizard of OZ, this guru, the WIZARD OF OZ. I just wish I had something that worked, something that worked well, and right now, despite that I feel raw, sometimes, I don’t want to do anything else for the moment other than… try to perform, try to settle that unrealized desire, right now. And to… take it step by step, wanting a car, a house. Trying to think about how I can make money… even online… finish my book, though now, I’m just sitting back and thinking as to what I’d like to write… having put the PSYCHOLOGICAL OBJECT, TAKING IT OUT OF YOUR HEAD, DOWLOADING THE BOOK FROM THE FUTURE aside.

There are songs about bad relationships. I really got into a bad relationship. But of course, this guru, he honestly thought that this would be a good idea. That shocks me. Now I mostly seek warmth.

Help I need somebody, Help, Not Just Anybody

I got to the MOTH Storyslam so early, because I had no idea how it worked. I was there at like 6:45 PM, I got a small IPA, it’s a bar/venue in Park Slope. I rehearsed my story at three open mics, but unfortunately, I couldn’t get feedback, but that’s the way it goes. I rehearsed it the day before too. It’s a good story, but after watching the rest of the storytellers, as I was picked first! Even. That was a first, and shocking, and what can I say? There were at least 200 people there. So it was a real audience. And so, I thought, good, I’ll get that out of my system, now that I’m not basically scared. I got the basic nerves out of my system, but being in front of that crowd affected me. I always think of Dave Chappelle in these moments: he’s in the wings going, “I think this is going to go well,” and that’s funny. Now, I don’t know if it’s because it’s a good idea, but one of the running jokes I have with myself right now, is that Black men are the unsung heroes of my life right now. And it kept developing, where I was thinking of referencing “Take me home country roads to the PLACE I belong WEST VIRGINIA” that hilarious song from Kingsman in my Barbara Harris essay, just when the supernatural shit gets too crazy, and we’re STILL in AJs, and then, randomly, my roommate, a Black man, he made a cross through our house singing that song. “WEST VIRGINIA…”

And I said, “hey! You’re singing that song.”

“Classic.”

“Country roads,” he continued, “take me home…”

I thought, okay, here’s a Black man supporting me intuitively, yes. Anyway, there were two Black men in the audience, judges, and they were straight up honest. You could tell, they aren’t giving out 9, not unless it deserves a NINE. They gave me an 8.3, like not bad. That was a B story. So I got a B, you know, and I stayed and listened to the other stories, to get a sense of what this style requires, and everyone said sacrifice, they used the theme in their telling of it, so it’s a bit more on the nose — so to speak — than FILM is, let’s say, as the guru still dominates my mind sometimes, which is terrible. It’s just a terrible experience. I was MUCH better off — without a “mentor,” or whoever this. guy was, honestly! He’s not a teacher, he’s not a writing teacher, even. So ANYWAY, gotta hit that theme, and I was too much in scene, not narrating or relaxed, enough, or something. But it’s the first I’ve ever done, I did it once 10 years ago, before any of these people came into the play, and I think I was better off. I dipped down, I felt not that great after that open mic, but I’ll shake it off and try to get up there again.

At least, there was a decent crowd, because technically, the goal is to play a large crowd. To speak to a large group of people. So I’m trying to MANIFEST. I’m trying to imagine that I’m doing a show for this many people if not more, for Dave Chappelle sells out venues. People do. They play to large crowds.

The theme was sacrifice, and I told the story about the thief I didn’t turn in, that I embraced, and it just lacked, I think, a cohesive idea, that I did something for this person, I did. But probably, it would have been better if I had concentrated on myself, what motivated me to do it. My mother wrapped me up in a sex scandal when I was four, she was practically criminal, you know? And so, he came from rough beginnings, and I knew he was an extraordinary guy. And so, began the year I was invaded by the Russians, where this man was going to go on a journey… just stay in storytelling mode. But you live and you learn, which means you gotta suck, or you gotta LISTEN to other stories that get better scores than you… and just pocket the learning and move on.

I don’t need the FUTURE channeling through my as an idea, AGAIN, as I type, I didn’t need to REACH to a future point and download the INFORMATION from that soiree in the future that I’m standing in front of a crowd, my own show. I did not need this shit. That’s what I don’t understand about these GURUS I met in Beverly Hills, maybe their ideas don’t actually affect their cognition. IS IT TRUE? Is that how it WORKS? Well, let me ASK Dave Chappelle. One day. To comment on all this crazy shit I was told was absolutely true. That guy is mega-successful. Sure, he writes jokes backwards, I don’t know if he was writing his LIFE backwards? So I have no idea right now, because I’m just deprogramming myself from YEARS —

YOU CAN MAKE IT YOUR LADY GAGA YOU CAN MAKE ANYTHING ANYTHING ANYTHING HAPPEN — THINK TIMOTHY CHALAMET, HIS LIFE IDEA IS IRRISITIBLE, I’m going to be bombarded by SUITORS over a SEX SCANDAL OR BECAUSE I’M THAT AMAZING AS A HUMAN BEING (???) or THAT TALENTED AT (????) OMG OMG OMG — YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND BECAUSE I AM A NICE PERSON DESPITE WHERE I CAME FROM — my closest friend, even, he was ALREADY STARRING IN A MOVIE in his mind before I even finished a BOOK. It was outrageous! This GURU was outrageous. “First you have to become the extraordinary man,” OVER A BOOK. Man, that guy royally CRUSHED me. BAM, CRUSH. DESTROY. He’s a destroyer.

That was a destructive relationship. Nothing to get too involved with. Like sure sure, you can bend reality with your mind, sure sure. Not to say it isn’t LITERALLY true, but it’s not anyone to take to heart. You keep that guru at a distance. Cool. I had something to LOSE, NOT HIM. He royally affected my life, the way I think, to a degree that I’m still dealing with and left me HOPELESS, truly!

Imagine? I was sitting in Istanbul, like, uhhhhhh????????? I don’t have a life. I don’t have a house. I don’t have money. “SURE SPEND YOUR IRA BECAUSE IT DOESN’T MATTER MONEY DOESN’T MATTER YOU CAN MEDITATE IT INTO EXISTENCE.” So, I will, next week, is Chills and Thrills, it’s Halloween, so I’ll think about how to address the theme from where I am now. Scary moments. I definitely look back on that relationship with the guru in utter horror. Like, more so, me, like, why am I here? I was just a lovely girl who happened to come from a past, and I tried to be OPEN about it, which DID NOT communicate what I wanted it to. The best approach there was — SHUT DOWN. WALLS. THICK. SWISS BANK. STAY OUT, you sick fuck.

I deserved so much more than that. Real love. I wasn’t a toy. I’m still reprogramming. DE-programming. I don’t know what to say because this GURU acted as if I didn’t KNOW who I was, believe in myself? My head sometimes. As I take a deep breath, cry sometimes, because the headfuck, just the headfuck of trying to DO ANYTHING, and needing KIM KARDASHIAN in the future to HELP me, in some capacity, “because it implies a lot,” like she’s watching my Netflix special… you know? What’s the POINT in this SCI FI? I just lost everything, I lost everything as a person over these ten years — I didn’t BUILD, I didn’t construct, I deconstructed, because some lunatic, this guru, believed that I was REPRESSED? LOOK AT YOURSELF. I mean, this MAN was gross. A GROSS man. And that just might be HIS idea. I hate that I was YEAH vulnerable — Like I would, put up with some guy with POWER issues, or who wants to EXERCISE power, leaning in to me in Beverly Hills, that reality is an EGG.

I liked characters, it was a young coping mechanism. Where I didn’t think I could be affected by someone, their were strange characters out there, and I tried to support him, support his need or obsession with these ideas, you know? Not thinking. I want to throw a cocktail in his face, in public. I want to pull a woman move. A response.

Listen dickface.

So I’m standing in this dream I once had, as it was my true dream, and going, is this what I want to do? AM I LADY GAGA? CAN ANYONE BE LADY GAGA? A prodigal piano player? You know? I do not play the piano, I could learn. But, that story, my family story, and my personality — I mean, no offense, but don’t most people feel like the outside doesn’t match the inside? WHY was I so judged? I mean, this guy — this Hollywood GURU — WHY? WHY did he open his mouth? Why did you act so weird? Over a girl? I just mean I got a LOT of STRANGE fantasy blasted at me. So much fantasy. Whoosh, I don’t know what to say because that was so dark, and it felt me feeling hopeless, like my life was worthless, or it lacked all meaning… I don’t think I deserved ESOTERIC ideas that would be controversial outside THEIR CIRCLE. Like, THINK, have a heart. Refrain. Restrain yourselves. No offense, but the “you’re special” routine, most of my friends hear that as a “LURING…” like I got lured into a cult. That’s what it sounds like.

NOT TO SAY I WASN’T SPECIAL DIDN’T KNOW IT OVER AN I TANYA DVD —okay? But I walked by Hadestown, another play, just shows that my former classmates essentially put on Broadway. They’re on Broadway. And they did not have to deal with this shit. I was a piece of PREY? How disgusting! Please, I say Tony Winners. I came from Marymount. Sure, I wasn’t the richest person THERE, but I know the Premingers, even, like WHY would you DO SOMETHING DO STUPID? I didn’t come from an unfortunate background? SURE, family was a mess, who knows there, but this idiot wasn’t even HEARING what the story was about — no one did — it’s a little sex scandal. “THE TOPIC SENTENCE…”

Imagine?

I gave him a shitty draft. That’s all you had to say, you spineless person.

He never said anything. So cryptic.

“The topic sentence IS,” he said, that’s it, one day. “My mother gave me away to a total stranger when I was four…” and by that point, he KNOCKED OUT a column. WHAT EXACTLY AM I NOT UNDERSTANDING? And that’s not the TOPIC SENTENCE NERD. “Your mother paid a woman MONEY to protect you from your father, because she accused him of being a child molester, rapist…” that’s the topic sentence. She didn’t GIVE ME AWAY.

That was the WORST relationship I have ever been in. One that makes me want to FLY to Beverly Hills — and WAIT, wait for this person to appear. “Family is a psychological construct…” point to him like he did to me, like some wannabee guru in the Pillsbury Doughboy— and yes, I’m swinging hard in this case. A psychopath, this was a psycho-path. SURE…in the words of GARY from Long Island, “HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING… SURE….”

“Weird men, Maria.”

I still have to evacuate this person because this star-studded EVENT he turned me INTO, and given what I was writing about, it’s extraordinary, like OMG OMG OMG she’s AMAL CLOONEY because she…? Is THAT pretty? THAT impressive on the CV? THINK! I HAD NO IDEA why people ACTED this way. You understand? He’s acting as if SUITORS — such as George Clooney — were going to GO OMG OMG OMG — she wrote a book!!! She’s the next American writer? Was that who I was man? You know what I mean? Not to say I couldn’t BE but HOLY SHIT. That’s quite a reaction… for someone who hasn’t even produced anything… I mean, I was working as an interviewer in LA, and — there’s no point in saying what you wish you did do, but I wish I had had the realization that — I do not NEED to PLAY any ROLE FOR YOU — the person in front of me. Fuck that story. Fuck your opinion. Fuck your feeling. The Zen Master Sybil was right, “RAGE.” That was OUT OF WHACK. So, I couldn’t hear her at the end of my 20s. I keep telling myself, hey, I couldn’t respond differently. Not yet. So I went down another USELESS POINTLESS road, and the same goes with my cousins. I DID NOT NEED TO PLAY LITTLE GIRL ASSHOLE, let you BE some FATHER seeking to fulfill an ITCH. Good intentions? Who gives a shit. That’s where I had to get to personally.

Just a GIANT NO. And if you want to ARGUE with me? GOOD LUCK.

I almost didn’t recover from the past decade, you know. But if there’s a fuel to keep going and even get IN FRONT OF A LARGE CROWD, it’s to call ALL these people OUT. Amal Clooney… paging Amal Clooney… at X-Men headquarters… please hear me, my soft voice, from the past… please, in the reality that you turn on the TV specifically on Lake Como, I’m using my KNOWLEDGE of the area to make this visualization even MORE real, lol, I have to laugh, because that’s how this guru seemed to think, please… help me get to you… help me get to your TV. Let us SHOW this GURU what PSYCHIC means. So, as a joke, I’ve reached out to the celebrities on the psycho spiritual plane, and they’re like, “whoa,” who’s this supernatural person? “It’s me, MARIA, and I need help…” Zoolander is listening.

So I’ll keep working routines. I just don’t know, I feel so confused, still, but it gets better. I get better. I suppose not everyone is interested in real life, it’s true, I mean, buying a house, meeting a spouse, having kids, a regular life. I just feel, personally, that it didn’t do me ANY GOOD being in an artistic medium, at least how I went about it, because there were seriously complexed people in that arena. Where, the professor I got close with, he’s against marriage, and so was I, but I was supposed to marry a Duke, Count, Prince Harry, this was his GRAND vision for me, which would make Amal Clooney laugh, maybe, or at least, not know what to say. You know? Like, I look back, “thanks.” That was totally retarded. If you SHINE out there in the world, maybe? I mean, sure? Hilarious. Like now, if some film student does it, I could be Great Expectations. I could play a HAUNTED woman… in an old MANOR… A solo piece, lol. Where I am contending with the life I chose to live. Looking at a younger woman, SURE, because we all grow old. And now, I have regrets for the moment, but they’ll pass, that I wasted my youth — as these men wouldn’t give a shit if I wasn’t young and pretty to them.

SO THANKS.

I could have a nice monologue. A good appearance there. Even sort of British, though I am American. That was the point. I could end up in some MANOR somewhere. I — me — personally, it shocked me. I maded my decisions, you know, I keep telling myself that, which gets easier, in that, I chose to live my life in a way that ultimately didn’t get me anywhere. I wasn’t interested in even basic goals, lik,e HOUSE, you know? It’s astounding to me, because these people who presented themselves as experts, better than me, even, they were so blind. They only enabled me, and if you really look at it, what sense did it make? That was definitely not an empowering decade. And again, sure I was attractive, but in looking at myself now, I feel embarassed, stupid, and totally misunderstood. Please go away. The memories.

So, I didn’t want to, I didn’t have to OVERCOME obstables, you know? Despite the ODDS MAKE IT in the world, be famous!!! Rich, successful!!!! I had what it TAKES!!!! VAGUELY…. even my former best friend, his obsession with my LOOKS, I guess, because he felt like I was going to write a book that everyone in Hollywood was going to go apeshit over, and then, they’d see me, omg she’s so pretty!!! As if any of these people give a shit. They were these people. You know? You want a pretty girl? Hmmm, not hard. Not to say I wasn’t SPECIAL OMG. It’s just, I had no clue why this plagued me. And all I needed to hear was, “you might be hanging out with the wrong people.” I don’t know what to say about my past, but that shattered my soul, a bit. I didn’t need my soul shattered. I’m alright, I’m not looney tunes, I’m working through all this, I don’t know what else to say. But I did lose all sense of purpose, meaning, as this GURU, truly, he both POOH POOHed my experience, but he was evidently — a bit twisted up by this story… me? You see? I was LOST. WHAT IS THE BIG DEAL?

NOTHING I did worked. I tried, I did, but that was a terrible ordeal, in the end, to get here. And now, sure, I can do social work? Or go into some arena, now that I have rid myself of the thick layer of FANTASY that haunted me… I mean, truly. I just, right now, want to try performing in some capacity, because I can’t let that go, yet, like, that was my true dream. I just hate feeling like constantly at the beginning. This guru, I’m telling you, he made me hate being a woman, truly. He treated me with such disrespect at day one, pointing to me across a room like a WEIRDO, a true weirdo. And I didn’t see it. “Knoowwwwwwwwwwww what do you wanna knoooooooooowww life isn’t about what you wanna dooooooo it’s about what you wanna knooooooooowwwwwwwwww….” it makes me, yes, want to follow him on his little walk through BEVERLY HILLS, just repeating the shit he told me. Yes, it makes me want to confront him in public. That’s not illegal.

I hate this man.

So maybe one day I’ll get my chance. I don’t know what to say about it, because I have never been in this situation. I mean, my parents were ILL, dipshit, and apparently, so were you… I suppose I was too, if I ended up here. His brother told me I was psychic within 20 minutes of meeting me—come on. I would have been the one to SPEAK to animals. I could throw a chair through his window. HEY ASSHOLES. You are completely insane. Time to put away the SETH BOOKS. My anger is HUGE. So — “you can do that,” right? That’s what the brother would say, I could make ANYTHING HAPPEN? I could give them an earful. F you, guru. YOU, forget your brother. F you. For taking advantage of my vulnerability. He was a terrible excuse of a psychologist. Since he was living out some Daddy fantasy. Just, I just didn’t understand this. I didn’t want to be the girl in this movie.

Again, in the movie version, what made this girl so special? Think about it? Because she went along with your MASTER GURU schtick? She’s so special, that you’re going to disrespect her at step one, you’re going to pull a truly speaking strange move of pointing to her… knooooowwwww… day one. Why? Because HIS FEELING, I bet you anything, TOLD HIM. Okay? A guy exposed his dick to me on Instagram messenger, okay? AT HELLO. SAME IDEA. It felt “natural to him,” he said. So fuck you, fuck your feelings. It took me enough to say enough. Okay, gotta breathe.

So who knows? You know? I really didn’t want to be stuck in a story. And now, I struggle with what to do, because sure, let my story resonate through the halls, let it shake the world, as it stands, with the lessons it holds. I’m not sure if I was, personally, THAT TAKEN with it as others were. And they didn’t even hear it. So now what? I’m back at square one. Looking at what I did, writing wise, um, there’s no trajectory, no direction there, though this GURU THINKS CREATIVITY IS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS, THIS SETH OBSESSED DUDE. And like, I look at this guy, like, what would you say in public, what would you say you did to get where you are, as he made sure to COMMUNICATE that HE MADE IT, HE DID IT, arrogantly. What would he say in public? He met people? He watched movies?

I was appalled by this man. I look back in horror.

You know what I mean? Sure he had intention? WAS THAT MY PROBLEM??? NO.

His stupid brother giving me notecards to meditate on FEELINGS. Just please. “It’s the FEELING that drives reality…” exhausted, look, I’m not that sure. I don’t think I had PROBLEMS with my MINDSET. I was too positive. Obviously. I just hope, now, I look at women who have succeeded, at what they do, and I find myself now really wanting to succeed. I really, it’s funny, I ran into my demons, because I wasn’t CRAVING NOTOREITY, in a sense, I wanted it to go well, I wanted to be a big success, that wasn’t a problem. I got there. I was hoping to come up in the world, I just think, the problems that the story caused me — GURU case in point — confused me. I did not need that man. I suppose some people believe that you meet who you are, or something. But that was a harsh reflection. A monster in my mind, too, living in his own isolated world. Not to get allegorical about it, but he was a false helper, who seemed to crush my heart, he really did. He brought out all that was unreal in me. Really. I didn’t see it coming. That was a manipulative man. I think he knows that, I think he knows he has some problems, because that man ONLY projected. Practically. Where I’m wrapped up, now, in problems, I don’t know… you see? HE must be right? Because he acts like he’s SO RIGHT? This man, because he saw he could GET IN with me, in some capacity, he would have never have done to that ME now — I would have shot him dead. So to speak. He was looking for a little pupil???

Sorry I ever opened my mouth. I’m telling you. Now, luckily, I have a GOOD MINDSET, jerk. So I’m really giving performing a go, I’m continuing to work on writing over here, not knowing what the BOOK is, but I’ll keep figuring it out. If I let go of the hanger, his — arrogant — hanging up some idea on a HANGER. If I might move through my life… in a sweep, like think FORREST GUMP. Someone who begins young… and keeps going… and it’s going to be heartbreaking, and I don’t know… “in the 15th century,” he said, “you would have been the one to speak to animals,” and he called this a COMPLIMENT. I would ring this guy’s NECK.

(With the Ghost of Barbara Harris, haha)

I have to just plug her in, sometimes. WITH the ghost of Barbara Harris — I needed an actress, and we all know that they CAN haunt you. And if you’re lucky, they just might HELP you. They’re ALREADY at their memorial, hunny, they already HAVE plans for their closet of clothes, for their LEGACY, yes. This is an actress. They know death is coming. It comes for us all.

So, alright, I’m pissed as fuck, I have no idea what the heck is going to happen. I keep playing around, keep trying to envision a show, something, and it felt good to be back at the open mic, the comedy stage, it did. I still ASK if “it’s okay” right? LOL. I have to laugh, if I “just practice my story a couple of times…” and the host in pink glasses is like, “You can do whatever you want.” So, whatever, I still have basic conflicts, basic stuff I have to get over. But I do get the sense that they like me, I just have to keep poking around, figuring out what my routine is. A guy, yesterday, he gave me some storytelling comics to check out. So, I always feel like I get something I can use, every time I go, to the mic. It’s a supportive crowd. And there was a woman yesterday that touched on tender topics, her eating disorder, sure, so there’s room, there’s nothing but room on that stage, which I just have to keep getting used to, so I’ll be back more often.

I have to problem solve, what can I do? I am where I am. And don’t tell me, since I have to deal with these STUPID gurus, in my mind. Where they’ll say one of these Instagram lines, like I’m exactly where I ???????? No. Bad move. “Should be?” You know everything you need to know when you need to KNOW it? UM, okay, I wish I thought, yes, WHAT WOULD DC say to all this? I wish I asked myself this question earlier. He’s a father, imagine, this is where your daughter ended up? Talk of speaking to animals in different centuries? “You’re special,” thinking about his air quotes. He made me laugh, really, through this… I came from looney tunes, you understand, which was terrible enough, not to say that I WENT THROUGH THE MOST TERRIBLE EXISTENCE YOU JERKS, so that was enough…to have to see… that I came from looney tunes, and I ended up in looney tunes.

OHHHH you’re PSYCHIC. OOOOOOOO PSYCHIC MARIA.

Not to get basic. I GET it’s TRUE, for YOU, I get it’s true, but it MIGHT not be a good look for someone else. And that was, in my mind now, a touch too obvious to not get angry. So alright, I’m sort of Arendtian, I came to accept it. I’m sort of a character out of an Arendtian mind, and luckily, I did find her work, which goes to show, you always have resources that you might not fully grasp. That, generally, I can’t explain it, it’s better to stick to your own lane, like “do not be distracted by the celebrities” on the catwalk on the way to the Malaysian Prime Minister. Zoolander. Don’t be distracted. Keep the focus. These detours. And none of these people cared if I lived or died… awful, just awful. And looking at my parents, I don’t know what to say. My mother couldn’t care less about me. And from a certain standpoint, SO?

I got sufficiently fucked up. And remember the guru, this one utterly shocked me, like his brother told me that he took his hand, and started punching him with it, “why are you hurting yourself?” And his brother delivered this to me as if it were WISE. That’s who I got involved with. Someone, since he was a boy, who acted like that. Unless his brother was lying? Sounds about right though. Holy moly, and I wasn’t HEARING that, myself. A bit too extreme there.

Anyway that’s my outpour today, and I’ll try and let go for the next storytelling event. Like, think about Chills and Thrills, from where I am now… like I’ll just talk outloud, try to shake off this man who lives in a universe in which there’s no such thing as a relationship. THANKS. Didn’t need that. I am aware. Or I might tell a simple story, like of a paranormal event I had, but I’ll keep getting up there, and seeing if this is what I’d like to do… I mean, my cousins were all LIKE THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE MADE TO DO… right, except it takes a lot out of me.

It’s not the easiest. And look, standing on stage in front of 200 hundred people, that’s the point, is playing to large halls, sure, not everyone wants to, in fact, but that’s the idea. So I am trying to meet the dream for real. Get comfortable. I was sweet, they called my name first, and I was like, ohhhh, that’s never happened to me before. Yeah, I applauded myself. Wow. I’m still in this place where I feel EXPOSED. I have to get over that. I was just so hurt this past decade, and you know, I know there are people (Tina Turner) who were in terrible relationships, wow. But she was considered one of the best at what she did, already, and she ploughed her way to a totally graceful, sensual, identity where she sang different songs too — based on her experience. So I’m a bit in her arena, right now, like “what did LOVE have to DO with it?” Nothing. I can just throw my hands up, keep letting go of that past, and keep searching for whatever it is that seeks to express itself… and maybe with talent, maybe find whatever is going to lead me to my fullest expression of self.

I’m going to… find success, where I can look back, and feel like I arrived.

It’s just the sheer thought of the guru sometimes that horrifies me. All this self-help, consciousness studies… like good for you. So I gotta work at the resto this evening, which I don’t want to do, but I’m grateful for it, and I’ll just keep going.

I don’t know what to say about social media. I say that because, the guru was all like, GET ON IT, SHARE YOUR STORY, I just don’t get it. I’ve tried a few things… I’m not entirely sure if this is helping me in any capacity. Other comedians post videos, I just don’t know if AGENTS or recruiters are LOOKING through social media? I’m not so sure. I have no idea. Some woman got an agent, off social media. I don’t know what to say there. But I’ll keep moving along. I just feel like miming GOLF to Tina Turner (hanging on…) to whack it — “it doesn’t MATTER how much the rent is.”

Nice one. And I’m clearly spinning out, clearly, I can SEE that now, and this GURU doesn’t give a shit. Wow. Unreal. I look at that GUY in the eyes of the STATE he was in when he pointed to me across his living room. STRAIGHT INTO HIS EYES. What are you doing? Wake up. I needed to. Wake up. This was DANGER. Ain’t nobody going to tell me that it wasn’t. He did what he did. If he LIES, that would be VERY INTERESTING to me. So WHAT were you doing then? If you did something that YOU KNOW was not COOL, KOSHER, even. Sucked, really sucked. But the thing is, um, people have been taken advantage of. People have been beaten. You know? People have been hurt, profoundly. So, okay, I never thought I would be one of these people who would go, “um, I think I got into…one of these relationships…”

Thanks for reading, if anyone is. I just can’t believe this guru.

Another morning

It feels pointless writing to no one, I’m almost over this bit, which was the reaching out to your audience — via channeler tapes — that were given to me, for reasons, I don’t even know. I didn’t quite realize what I got involved with. But the YOU CAN MAKE IT routine from the GURU I met — which robbed me of my time, actually, all this confusing useless talk I just did not need because what would these two say in public? Not much. They wouldn’t be able to admit their beliefs in public. I’ve read an article or two about this guy, and he’s not talking about mindset, that’s not what he’s doing. “I meditate a lot which I feel helps me…” not even that. I just found this guy to be a phony. That was — not who I was, dude, he got the wrong idea, literally. I woke up thinking about the plant people too, like, why am I here, exactly? What was the point of this? But again, I needed to learn what boundaries were — not to bring up this word — but now, I’m not getting ALL involved, I have my own life, I could get sucked into worlds — rather than creating my own. While I was in Paris, I had arguably an easier time, because some of the bullshit I encountered in America — I just didn’t, I didn’t have to deal with it at all. But that was definitely a “gasp” like, how did I go down that road? Wow, this Hollywood screenwriter, I’m still quite shocked at this man, because why would you put someone at risk like that? I mean, this guy INSERTED his opinions on me — projection. Because he had superior feeling senses. Not the time. I did not need a MALE, you see. So the “you create your own reality” obsession he had, thinking about Hannah Arendt, sort of taking that in, “okay, so Maria…at the top of her thirties… ends up in these circles…” no. And the you create your own reality routine had an adverse effect. Here’s the thing I don’t understand — isn’t that an obvious statement to make? Don’t YOU know, WE know, that you are creating your own reality? AKA LIFE. Better word. So you might want to not meditate but roll up your sleeves and — GO. Action. But I came from a background where I just didn’t need that, literally at all, after coming from a couple of mentally ill parents? This guy was ridiculous. A sorry excuse for a psychologist, and it was so ridiculous that he wanted to take some ride on some fantasy play… that he was gifted at psychology? Though he literally had ZERO experience! ZERO.

So I met my demons, I think. When I was a kid, I was obsessed with psychology, and YES, I wasn’t a refugee or a thief, I befriended a couple of people, knowing what a friend is, but when I was a kid, this was my obsession for a few years, which I put away, but I wonder about this guy, why he HAD to come into my life, wishing he never did, and I surrendered to the fact that I was attractive and vulnerable in a particular way. And that, maybe with the Barbara Harris book, I’ll be able to elucidate what vulnerability means. You don’t take advantage of someone who is vulnerable. But some, in the words of the Russian stick masseuse, (the year I was invaded by the Russians), “you are light Marushka, and the dark likes the light…”

As this man was dark for sure. “I’m always FEEDING YOU…” he says. I thought we had a recurring lunch date, and he’s beginning to get a touch obsessed with FEEDING ME. WHY am I here? That was mighty weird. SUPER weird. And nobody is going to tell me it’s NOT weird. Okay? Since I’m joking that President Barack Obama assisted me personally on the psycho-spiritual plane, thinking about how HE would have responded to the things the guru said to me — that helped. He’s going “sounds like a weird guy.” I didn’t deserve false gurus, prophets, geniuses, psychologists — no offense. The fact that I was a white woman, too, it just necessitates a whoopee cushion. I’m always FEEDING YOU. Didn’t see THAT, didn’t SEE what was happening, because I was STRUCK, what he did the first night was SO bizarre, as if he were on drugs, actually, pointing to me across a room and acting weird. “KNOOOOWWWW what do you wanna knoooowwww….”

Anyway, I’ll get to that guy on the mic, soon, I’m definitely definitely going to tell as many people as I can, what happened with the Hollywood guru with aspirations of teaching Alexander the Great. That was me. EMOTIONALLY. He wanted to teach me about FEELINGS, some guy who can’t even admit his own. And with this one, Sorrentino knows, if you mess with a Neapolitan, they are — equipped if not built to DRIVE their rage with the force of Vesuvius — there’s no stopping the force. I will do everything I can to take this guy as far to the edge as I can. You don’t mess with a a Neapolitan. Maria Mocerino, yes, specifically, don’t give me talk about my ability to play a GANGSTER unless YOU UNDERSTAND that I can — CROSS through the screen — and come for you. With the power of a Brazilian mother. You see.

Can’t wait, the Neapolitan stuff is great, we’re swinging bats, a crowd is with me by default, they’re tossing me more bats, so I can put on a little show, they’re passing out street food, we’re breaking out into song, we’re cheering, it’s a whole thing, a revolt in Naples — it’s a show, too. We’re the siren people. We’ll do what we need to do. “Gotta a float?” Yeah, probably.

Anyway, I’m feeling good this morning because I had a bit of a breakthrough, where I’m working on a MOTH piece, we’ll see if my name gets picked out of a hat. But I worked on my story a few hours last night, just trying to find the right STATE. So Ed Norton in my head, hilarious, just residue from all this crap I absorbed, as if being externally focused makes any sense. Reach out to your audience, download the information from the future, specifically the most SUCCESSFUL future, that royally fucked up my head, like I’m gathering MORE INTELLIGENCE outside myself. So I still have to shake that off. In any case, I fixed the story so it makes more sense, and I went to a couple of open mics last night to —just throw it out there, as I find it helps for me to receive it and keep cracking at it. It wasn’t a comedy routine, but there’s storytelling involved, so I don’t care about getting rigid, these open mics are meant to help you develop material. And the year I was invaded by the Russians is amazing.

But it was fun to finally feel like I got somewhere. I’ll practice that, and it’s more the state, where I know what I’m going to say, but I also don’t know, I don’t know how to describe that. But I feel like I found the right state of mind, to deliver the story, so I’ll keep working on it today, wishing the future would leave me, you see, because that royally affected me, like, go make your life now? I didn’t get this guru. He needed the video game taken away from him, he needed some discipline, in my opinion. As a child, yes. The guru. He felt like he had the right to treat me with disrespect, step one. And my cousins did the same thing. You know? So, through the mess, the noise, finally, I heard that VOICE: WHY THE HELL ARE YOU LETTING PEOPLE DO THIS TO YOU! Jesus. Fuck off. I can’t help what it was. And I don’t give a shit if it triggers you, shocks you, okay? It happened, so grow up. Watch a NEWS program. There’s a WHOLE WORLD OUT THERE.

So no, I do not TALK to Dr. J. A woman who could have molested her own child, even, as this woman wasn’t sure about how SHE handled me, you see. It’s not comfortable. It’s not a comfortable topic of conversation. You’re just going to have to RESPECT me. RESPECT that there’s a LINE between us. Unless woman have wondered the same thing about your mother… coming over to their house with their breasts exposed. You know? I was four at the time. Only so much I could do, literally, cognitively. Angelica Leibowitz KNEW but again she didn’t. I acted out, maybe obviously, all things considered, so the sexual trauma specialist might SUGGEST — giving this person some room, because they obviously weren’t raised in any way… so I didn’t say thank you, please, I barked at people… that’s just where I came from. And why am I here? You know? No offense, but how would these kids have reacted if THEY WERE IN MY SHOES AT FOUR? I don’t know. My cousins in Naples are watching…a small Neapolitan revolt. That’s all they see. “This is the reaction…” as my face, determined, at four — tries to run away. Futile. I think they might have tried to give me room, I don’t remember this part that well, but JOSE had to deal with me… because I could flip out, I believe. What are you going to do?

So I understand all that is AFFECTING to some, or would be affecting, I’m just saying that people’s AFFECT — didn’t need to be PUT ON ME. I didn’t need that additional weight. Now, I have a history book eternally with me, with my wondrous sweet bright face I used to have, “ooooooo, wow,” like Belle, “isn’t it amazing….” the world is vast… no?

Anyway, I haven’t found a job yet. I’m annoyed, in need, and it will come. A better set up where I’m making more money. I need a day job. I need to go out. Meet people. Get back into a normal routine. I’m going to try some affliliate marketing, I think, as my Big Sister of America suggested I think about. Again, I came to find that you’re better off drawing from your own resources, as my Big Sister had a better homework assignment, I thought, than these self-purported geniuses. I cannot get into this topic, I’m sorry, “tell you all about it when I have the time…” Aladdin. Dr. J — one jump — ahead of the hitmen (trying to HELP me). Why are you sniffing around my skirt? You see. Go elsewhere. “There’s so much more to me…”

I played that movie for the thief, you see, this was step one… he laughed, he did. “Your a prince in a thief, that’s who you are… it’s Disney, a common archetype. You steal because you “have to.” With batman issues with justice, giving to the poor, you give away what you get, too… just, wow, he got triggered by the cafe downstairs, lol, and I have to laugh, because he didn’t damage anything. Sure, they had to buy more produce, but he took SALAD, SALT, FOOD. You see. And he convinced everyone, literally everyone, that he was many… when by nature of how “they” didn’t BREAK an entry, THEY didn’t take anything, it was obviously a mouse. But it was so unusual and strange, “why did they not take anything?” Break anything. No damage. That’s a sign of someone with a message to share. He didn’t touch A THING. Only food. And he gave it to… those without much… out the back of a truck. Okay, I thought. “He got upset.” Okay. We might just need to work out some basics, but…

Meanwhile, Putin invaded Ukraine.

So in the grand scheme of things, this was minor. I didn’t appreciate being put in this position, obviously. “Make way for Prince Ali…” you see? Then, here’s Robin Hood, I played that for him too, he steals from the rich and he gives to the poor. He suffered a personal tragedy, and he’s going to be a good renegade, the good side of the underworld, let’s say, because there’s so much injustice in politics. It’s a movie. Movies people continue to see. Very popular. If not legendary. That’s who this guy was to me, a legend. A true legend. Someone who could inspire an Ocean’s 11 character, someone who might alert the government, because of how talented he is, skilled, and his crimes are ALADDIN crimes. So they might recruit him. He didn’t even know how he got through most of his life. He had quite a life, by the time he reached 26.

So that’s on my mind because that’s the story I’m hopefully going to tell this week, but I’ll get up on stage today, beforehand, and just rehearse it. I need to keep bridging a gap between “being alone” and being in front of an audience.

I’ve got a couple of things coming up — I was asked to audition for an NYU short this weekend, I’ll be rehearsing for a Columbia scene on Friday, so I’ll be performing in front of that class, so more people will see me. And that’s it. I hope I’ll be able to do some shorts, put together a reel, which is the next step, for me, and keep on figuring out what my identity is. I worked the scene, basically, where I find out that the cafe downstairs was broken into, and when my boyfriend said “THEY THEY THEY…” I knew it was just him. “THEY?” Yeah, “these were professionals…”

“REALLY?”

“What made them professional?”

They didn’t BREAK IN. No one knows how they did it. THEY THEY THEY.

And it flows better, now that I revised how I’m doing it, and it’s well acted, for real. I’m getting there, it’s better now that it’s clear that he’s much more than a thief. I look better too, I’m starting to look better. I had my soul sucked out of me, really. So we’ll see, we’ll see what happens with this guy too. I mean, I literally have no money, none, right now, which isn’t the best feeling, but hopefully, I’ll figure out how to make real money. I’ll try online, see if I can do something online, and figure out whatever’s going to bring me abundance in life.

Yes, the Hollywood screnwriter was manipulative. I was vulnerable, yes. That was soooo degrading. I get I was SPECIAL DIDN’T KNOW IT whatever that was. That was utterly strange. I’m off to read, even that, like, just read books… who gives a shit about the book being a “psychological object.” And this man is telling me about HANGERS, like trying to help me with the book, when I’m reading book after book and just seeing you can…kinda do whatever you want… you know? Just read books. This man’s involvement in my life was useless. And I wasn’t ASKING for help, that’s the thing, I had no idea WHY, WHY these MEN, specifically, wanted to HELP ME, and I didn’t, I couldn’t realize that… like WHY? Good question. Not to say I wasn’t UNIQUE, even, but — WHY is this happening? I have friends on Broadway, Tony nominees on my speed dial, and they aren’t —getting wrapped up in this bullshit. With people who aren’t even IN theater. You see what I mean? Do you write Opera? COOL, not what I’m doing, I’m doing THEATER. Sure, there’s crossover, but it’s not the same world, exactly. Whoosh, “nah I’m cool,” it was simple, actually, but these switches that one has to make, like, I don’t think I’m going to get involved, like, no no no, I really don’t need help, so if you have some ITCH you’re seeking to SCRATCH, my suggestion would be — putting that in its proper place.

I made decisions, most definitely, and I would never make them again. So “thanks” guru, that was a bit stupid, on his part. Stupid move. I got my side of it, cleared up, meaning, I came from a background… which made me vulnerable to this weird ass shit, totally weird ass shit. And the thing is, that guy doesn’t care, if I’m a mess, died, like, wow. His lack of care was astounding. Wow, that was truly a bad relationship.

Pointing to orange cones, (think Obama standing there), he’s making up even that, the construction cones. Obama isn’t going to stick around for lunch, I think. It’s a touch comical. “You’re making up the orange construction cones?”

So wish me luck. Wish me luck. I hope I’ll get lucky, this time, and meet people who… aren’t drug addicts, or down to treat me strangely. I mean, that’s easy now, if someone blows through, to go — hey look at that? Is that your sister? To the guru, can she NOT know we’re friends? Can my old school teacher NOT KNOW? WHY? Is there something inappropriate about our relationship? That we are friends??????? Are you INTERESTED? I don’t know if any of this has gotten to anyone WE know, you see, but I don’t “give a damn,” to get cinematic about it. I hope it does. Because God knows I’ve had a terrible time just sorting out my head.

But I’m getting to love life again. I’m trying to just accept where I’m at, and I’m trying to envision where I’d like to go. I’m confronting a new world, where I can get a job, not move abroad, exhausting, and pursue what I’d like to. I hope I make a break, right? I hope I recognize my life, like, this is my life. I know it is. So that’s it, when it comes to singing, there’s nothing I can do at this second. I’ll do a video with this piano player next month and try to get gigs, but I’m still finalizing what I’d like to sing. I don’t know what to do — if JAZZ is the way to go, or Michael Jackson, or classics, like Elton John’s Sacrifice, that genre, of classics, covers. So that will work itself out. I’m not there yet. I’m just working on Michael Jackson, because it’s FUNNY, it’s truly funny, that I can sort of sound like him… and he’s been a good teacher, because wow, that man could sing. If you’re listening to what he’s doing, as I’m working on Heal the World. One of the pretty ones. So I’m just listening to him, then I’ll go back to Dolly Parton, I mean, it takes a second to develop a sound. I can do Bonnie Raitt too, actually, so I’m working on that. They are my… teachers because I can sound like them. And Joni Mitchell. So I’m letting that be.

I think on that end, I’m mostly thinking, okay, WHAT would I sing of hers? And I think it would be California, because it has rhythm, and Urge For Going. I’m trying to put together a set, which is what I told this pianist, which made him nervous, but I got him, it’s fine, I just need to keep refining my sound, what I’m seeking to do.

We’re meeting up next month, I have to pay him, but OKAY. No problem. We’ll see — going through a book of songs, what we can do, he plays really well.

Eventually, I’ll try and find a guitar player who wants to work on Neapolitan music, so I can go to Italian restaurants even. I feel like that might be easy, or easier, as they tend to go together. They’re open to “a little night music.” Like, here are Neapolitan hits, with some dude on a guitar, it’s not hard, you know? But I gotta get there. And right now, this second, I just trying to get another job, or just deal with life a second. I’m doing these open mics and now MOTH, I’ve got a little BITE from the acting world, based on my two auditions… which is NICE. NICE feedback. I can’t even ACT yet. I’m so excited, I got a short film script, and I sort of have decided to let it be, like I’ll see what emerges… I’ll pull a Barbara Harris. It’s a strange script, sort of affecting, because I interrupt someone from killing himself, and I have to use his oven, which he’s using to kill himself… and it’s Christmas. So I have to practice.

In this case, I know, trying to NOT put yourself out there, trying to NOT be the overachiever, it’s better to BE the overachiever, like I have this scene offbook. I don’t know if I will, but I can try. Or something. I’m in costume. Even. I’m in an apron. Which I thought was funny, dark. Pink. I’m so sorry… I need to use your oven. I can probably get one off Amazon. So we’ll see. I want to get into a movie. I want to be filming. Fast. That would film in December. And that crew is always filming things, so the more I can APPEAR, the better. I keep looking at the calendar. I’m in month 4. And already, I have two gigs with Columbia and NYU. I have a piano player — pinned. Hold please. I need to buy a lamp, first, and then I can pay for a couple of hours. I get it’s a discount. So I feel proud of myself for being so proactive — I said I could move fast. But there’s only so much I can do, and this is where I run up against the GURU — like SURE, let 500k be delivered to me in CASH, for no reason. However, we can put that aside. Meaning, there’s no way of predicting the unpredictable. Let’s just hope something random and amazing happens, yes, but let’s keep on this TRACK, the one we’re carving. So on the affiliate side, I thought YOUTUBE was a good spot, just because you can make money from ads, if you get there, and I like beauty… I like trying beauty products. So I thought, I have nice skin, that’s what people tell me, like I look good, and luckily, I’m looking better, because wow, I felt so ugly, so ugly and sexless for a while. I don’t know what to say about my look, but I adjusted how I’m filming my open mics, so it looks better, and I think I look better. I still don’t know what to do about my hair. If I should keep growing it out, wear it curly, or go straight, actually. Darker. Sort of go for femme fatale, sort of, just play stupid, sometimes. Even. I play a good stupid. I think I do.

We’ll see. Nothing but possiblities.

I just read this crazy article

I just read a story about a girl who was held hostage for years in the basement of some guy’s house. A crazy story. They are around. There are crazy stories out there. She was ten, when she was abducted.

Crazy shit has happened. It can happen to you. Looking at the Jews. You know? The Jews know, okay? That crazy shit can happen to you that MAKES NO SENSE. What SENSE did it make? Would they even want to TALK to a person trying to MAKE sense of what happened? No. No thank you. It’s not that I am TRYING to make any kind of CONNECTION with them, it’s just to point out — crazy crazy things can happen to a person.

Seriously speaking, even the fact that this GURU was Jewish blows my mind. Just, why he got so wrapped up in ME, forget the story, I do not know. I cannot even tell you what happened to me as a PERSON because of this relationship.

He was wrong. Totally wrong. That relationship practically ruined me, my life. He presented himself as an authority. This was UBU ROI.

I’m in a better place, evidently, because I wouldn’t stay PAST day one today. WHO ARE YOU? Coming into MY ORBIT? I’m on guard for sure. That was a GIANT RED FLAG. I look back at him with a high degree of shock. There was darkness there in the words of Nate and Gary. “Darkness, Maria.”

“Weird men, Maria, weird men.”

His interpretation of me — not cool.

Evidently, this guy, this stupid guru, a bit tough to shake, my hatred for him.

Mostly because he presented himself as some enlightened being. That pissed me off. Remember—tapping my temple — remember. If you MESS with a Neapolitan, you MIGHT get a block party/revolt in your neighborhood that will include damaging public property with musical numbers. We’re opera, for sure, performance artists. That’s the dream — taking over Beverly Hills with Franco Franzese, lol.

Celebrate good times, come on! And we’re dancing.

In any case, I haven’t been running around this week, I’ve been working from home, mostly, applying for jobs, thinking about the basics, really. I just hated the people I got involved with this past decade because it was all — weird and self-aggrandizing.

The guru was so obsessed with manifesting or magic — when, quite honestly, it wasn’t that complicated. WHY this guy wanted to help ME, literally speaking, when I didn’t need his HELP, especially with my past? I just want to punch this guy.

I’m in a state of unknown, now, I have no idea. I’m going to do MOTH this week, try to, and just keep on figuring out the rest of my life — after going through a horrific period. I’m not exactly shoving my belief system down people’s throats, I’m not interested in HELPING someone as a weird ass side project? And that relationship with that guru, it weakened me as a person. I became weak.

He belittled me, and he doesn’t even clock that. I knew I was STRONG, asshole.

He told me I reminded him of Lady Gaga during her more vulnerable unguarded moments, haha. Right, it’s time to put up my guard. You’re not supposed to take advantage of someone’s vulnerability. NOR MISTAKE IT for pain.

I want to school this guy, chew out his ear. He would do best to keep himself on a leash when it comes to women he finds attractive. I guess he never had a girlfriend, or something. I wonder if he has, actually. Because, if he thinks that’s a way to treat a grown ass woman, that’s bizarre. A thirty-year-old woman is not a baby.

Now I’m in check with my instincts — danger danger danger. Stranger danger. Some guy with money, you see, wanting to play silly games. Calling me Carl Jung, in the end, utterly ridiculous. Let us remember: I was JUST A GIRL IN A CAFE.

I feel better, pretty good, I just applied for an assistant position, as I really don’t know what to do, right now, and I’m looking for a change, and I enjoy supporting a person. I need a better job, one with potential for growth, it’s not that I don’t want to pursue performing, etc etc etc, I need to create a life… that functions. I need a day job, a better one, so I can move out of this restaurant job.

I just wish I never spoke about my past. Honestly, honestly, honestly. That brought me nothing but problems.

I keep working behind the scenes on my writing, and I’ve sort of surrendered that I haven’t produced anything yet, that I might not be geared to produce things quickly, in this regard, I don’t know. But the idea that a BOOK was going to CHANGE MY LIFE, or that I could DOWNLOAD the FUTURE, the completed BOOK, specifically the ONE that OPRAH READS, I mean, what a headfuck. I didn’t need that bullshit.

I obviously hope that it will reach some level of success. I just don’t get the utitlity in blowing my head up — I hope for the best case scenario. No? And this guy, it’s funny, he was pretty small, I mean, his life is small. It’s reserved. I didn’t get him.

Anyway, you live and learn, right? I’m just trying to move as fast as I can— get a solid job, that’s my next touchstone. And just move forward as a well rounded, normal person who’s going to live and die just like anybody else. It would be fun to get married, it would be nice to feel as if I were moving UP in the world, to fulfill my greatest potential. That’s what I’m thinking about these days.

So anyway, I spend the last few days pushing these pieces forward. I hope that they’ll be published — I don’t know if I needed to MEDITATE on the probable reality that they already are. I didn’t understand that, at all, especially because this guru isn’t putting that on his other friends my age? His family friends? He’s not TAKING THEM ON as pupils, or whatever this disgusting idea he had was. I hated this relationship. It was practically scary. It brought out the worst in me. He was obsessed with me not being FED as a child, just utterly deranged.

I’m going to keep applying for jobs, and I hope I can get an assistant job, something, so it isn’t writing at all. I don’t want to live a solitary life. I’m not interested in journalism, I don’t think. I’m trying to stick to what makes me feel good.

It’s funny because writing just seemed to be the WRONG road. Like, there are BOOKS out there about scandals, or child abuse, not to say that I can’t MAKE IT BIG OMG OMG OMG where suitors are RUNNING to date me, it’s just, this guru simultaneously is telling me my personality is WRONG. So, what exactly made me so special to this guy? It’s like, now, I go, well, if you want to pursue comedy, you can just go do that, if that’s your take on this whole debacle. It’s not like there isn’t ROOM for drama within it? I’m trying to follow my own instincts now, though I still suffer, yes, from some of these ideas I absorbed.

Like the future thing, that still affects my ability to think. It affected my THINKING. The channeling your future audience routine — holy shit, that was damaging. DO NOT GIVE CHANNELER TAPES to people who have NO IDEA what it is. I was shocked, like, why the fuck is this person giving me channeler tapes?

And all that noise, the “you’re special” routine, had to do with a sex scandal I was in? The guru was not exactly MAN enough to admit his feelings. Like, did he think I was a remarkable person? Was that, a big deal? And so, WHY did he treat me like that? It was SO MALE. MALE. Why was he trying to manipulate me? WHY was he acting like he has psychic senses? In any case, now, I just would rather make friends, go out to dinner dates, find a boyfriend, normal shit. Like, today, I’d pass… I don’t need some weirdo who takes himself to be a supreme being “helping me” but “not wanting a relationship” whatever this strange meditator, obsessed, dude was thinking…

Anyway, I’m off. I have to sing and warm up today. I’m trying to priortize basic life stuff for a minute. I’d like to push these pieces forward, and rehearse for my MOTH night, and keep ridding myself of this GURU— this nightmare, I look back on that man and go, what a nightmare. It just sucks, because I was just operating nonsensically. Getting involved with that man was — degrading. And time heals. That one has taken time, because I was so fucked up, so fucked up by that man’s involvement in my life, that it fuels my hatred for this man, picturing him in his NICE CAR DRIVING TO BEL AIR.

He does LOOK like that. Ridiculous. I was not “unfortunate.”

My family story? It just brought me nothing but fantasy, or talk of greatness? I mean, I was really confused. I hope I’ll be able to make my way up into the world, sure, but what exactly am I going to say? It’s not about FAMILY. It’s about the problems the story brought me ON TOP of coming from a family make up that impacted me adversely. And yet I was such a good person, wasn’t I guru? A nice girl, who had feelings, yes, idiot. The destined for greatness stuff, whoosh. At that point, you might as well make a phone call. You know? I doubt BRAD PITT would have take a cocky seat in his living room, to discuss my personal life, helping me with my MINDSET, okay? Gazing out his window, hands behind his back. That’s how this guy acted. I suppose he had his SIDES, sure, but for the MOST part it was — superior man… a man who meditated his way to success. I just doubt that other MEN, sure, would have acted that way with me. Like, I deserved real friends. Just friends. Looking back at him — what exactly did you WANT from me?

What exactly were YOU, meaning, HIM, getting out of it?

I know that I came from a complicated background that just brought me MORE complications. I can see that now. When the answer was — no! Just NO. REJECT. Where was THAT BUTTON? REJECT REJECT REJECT. I’m pressing it, this is my meditation, currently. I’m REALLY SEEING THE RED SHINY BUTTON, I’m getting to KNOW INTIMATELY the FEEL of the button, when I press it: reject. Reject. I”m in a PLANE in a stupid hat, watching these men fall out of the PLANE. REJECT REJECT REJECT. And now, I’m cruising off to the side… headed home.

I might just go to the longer mic, in general, I’m trying to decide what to do, I should probably just throw myself back — up— and rehearse my five minutes for moth. I might do that, then. I’ll end up at 10 minute mic. I have moments where I — flatline. I don’t know WHY I’m leading with this story… but I’m going to keep seeing what I might be able to do with the content that I have.

I’ll go practice my MOTH five minutes today.

I spoke to the trauma specialist

Photo by Varju Luceno on Unsplash

A very nice man with a very gentle hand. He’s spoken to hundreds of people. He’s spoken to people who totally invented episodes, he’s spoken with people who haven’t, in that, the perpetrator even admitted it. He finds the total imagined bodily experience to be rare, but it’s not outside the realm of possiblity, sure, it’s also. He worked in a mental hospital, early on in his career, where psychotic people truly believed “the devil” raped them, and he doesn’t KNOW if that indicated that they might have been when they were young, even. He doesn’t necessarily see psychosis and repressed trauma as cancelling the other out. He doesn’t have a simplistic understanding of what might be factoring into one’s experience. If I was awakening to this area of my body, generally, and if there was abuse involved, sure, it’s all possible. He, at times, reflected, that he isn’t judging — he speaks to so many people who go through experiences that inspire them to call him, so he can’t tell me whether or not it happened, only that, it could have, not have. So that’s that.

Plus, he called the guru, he called that a suggestive influence. That person evidently had no idea what he was doing, in that, he believed I was repressed. And to this man, “what does that mean?” I said, I told him about the time I called this guru because I started feeling things I didn’t understand, but like, in looking back on that relationship, what the fuck was he even doing on the other end of that call? Talk about not a friend, or someone who cared, literally. That was a head fuck. “FEEL YOUR FEELINGS.” And this man, he doesn’t understand. “I suppose he felt that…” When I called him and said “what’s going on,” he didn’t miss a beat. He didn’t ask me, “I DON’T KNOW, what is HAPPENING?” He said, “don’t you think you were scared?” The sexual trauma specialist found that, “Scared?” Of “suddenly being somewhere else.” “But were you?” I think so, but I don’t know what to say…

But he thought I was repressing the event. “Did he think there was sexual abuse?” And I didn’t know, I didn’t think so. “But he said, you’re probably going to go through experiences….” in this totally disturbing tone. “That’s a suggestive influence.” It doesn’t mean anything, like, you could have go through this revelatory experience, regardless, we got that thread right. “You started writing… and you came to wake up to what happened…” and he’s not manipulating me in any way, meaning, he does not care, for lack of a better word, whether or not I did or didn’t, he’s not trying to convince me of anything, he’s just listening… and responding.

But what a mess. “I mean the confusion” bit to him didn’t sound NEW in my case. But, this man held a belief, based on? Nothing. Just his feeling. Never having even met anyone like me before, I’m almost positive of it. That I would be “going through experiences,” because I was repressed, when WHY would he project that onto me, even given what I might be repressing, which he missed, “yes,” he missed the LIE that my father was a child molester. In terms of suggesting that I was repressed in a creepy fashion. But I had already begun to skid off the rails, with this guy, as some of his ideology had a NEGATIVE effect on me, and if you were to THINK about my background, how that ideology was supposed to help me — I don’t know what this man was thinking, like he was an absolutist, there is only one way, yada yada yada.

In the end, just because — he said, look, I’ve spoken to many people who were entangled in strange relationships too, it was a whole thing. I think I just need the space to continue to not be influenced by people. To let myself take the space… to keep clearing… I have to… he thought I was emotionally repressed? I still don’t understand what the fuck this guy was doing. The guru. Suggesting I was repressed, suggesting some fictional character was a psychological device. I’m speaking to him about the WHOLE of it, who was around me at the time, as that story brought me nothing but complications, weird shit. Weird shit left and right. He was a boy who needed the video game taken away from him. That was strange. I was disturbed, and I didn’t realize that. Our relationship disturbed me, obviously.

And at the same time, I always feel better when I speak to him, Jim, we only spoke twice. I feel better, having process that, without any KIND of energy coming at me, as to what the mix of it could have been. In the end, he said, the important bit, is to feel safe, to feel safe, to feel empowered, evidently, I guess, and continue to honor what I went through, and keep doing what I need to assess the connection — I feel a bodily connection, like, I’m aware of that area of my body in a new way, it seems, I just don’t know what that means. It’s complicated, the experience I went through, where I always come to the other end, feeling hopeful, like I can leave the heartache of the past, particularly the past decade, as I got entangled in relationships I did not need, I did not need to become psychic, on top of it, and I did not need to meet this guru, I wish I never even decided to write my story, to be frank, not this chapter of it.

That just opened me up to weird male energy. He got that point. Just the weirdest MALE energy. I wish I had met someone who said, “maybe don’t write, maybe not at first, maybe you should take care of basics, talk it out, get yourself some professional help around it,” because your family situation is still complicated. You have “another family,” but they don’t get that’s weird, or WHY? As I came out of these awful years, going, why am I in another family literally speaking? It’s a maladaptive pattern. I would sound delusional on the phone with him if I was like, yeah cool, groundless, “so I’m in another family…” because mine was vaguely complicated. I am AWARE now. That I didn’t have to make those decisions, either. I made decisions… a series of choices… because of the situation I came out of…that ultimately did not help me.

I find myself going, I was a nice person… I mean, I was bubbly, vulnerable, sure, around that story with someone I don’t KNOW? Someone I have no clue if I can TRUST? Be real. I wasn’t able to make these connections. I had problems, sure, as these people did too, and I might have wished I worked out my relational problems, meaning, if you can’t SEE based on WHO is in your orbit, mine, of course, that I have problems in the sector of relationships, then I missed a glaringly obvious point. WHY would I keep falling into a trap? That’s why I say, DON’T HELP PEOPLE. You might not be HELPING THEM. Best to stay out. 100%. The help shadow, this maladapative pattern almost killed me. But to Jim, he’s saying, a combination of things might have been at play… and that it’s going to take some time… to feel like I reached a point of clarity, and I might still not be sure, but he evidently hears the story I came out of … just the strangeness of it, and he’s not treating me like I invented it, or that my general confusion wouldn’t be understandable.

It’s more, I went through so much in that area of my body, with influences that I’m still cycling out, like I did not need FALSE expertise. “Repressed why?” Because I didn’t know how to write a book? And the thing is, what was so confusing about this idiot guru, was — I’m vulnerable, to him, that was clear, so why not fuck her up? He can FEEL my pain, even, imagine? Jim. “The second day I hang out with this person…” and it’s like, “what do you mean?” I didn’t THINK of asking these questions because I was SO confused. So WAS I REPRESSED? You fucking lunatic. This Hollywood screenwriter asshole. Like I see you, dickface. Acting like you didn’t DO anything… and the worst bit, is, UHHHH, how does this relate to my father???? If it does? So many in love with me, doesn’t like me, I’m around the MAP with this guy. “But you’re special.” I was special. This he knew.

He needs some help. If he feels that was at all appropriate — he needs help.

But again, I feel better about it, I feel like we take that piece by piece. He’s not rushing. He’s not piling shit on top of me. He’s just, taking it step by step. But he’s spoken to a wide range of people who are seeking support around this subject area. Are you delusional? Um, it doesn’t sound like it, I’m not CLAIMING anything happened, I just don’t know based on what I went through, and he, from his experience, seems to have learned that you can store memories in your body, and some catalyst can awaken you to it, yes, that’s possible. Does that mean my father did it, he doesn’t know. But I at least feel like I spoke to someone with whom I can process the event I had… which includes suggestive influences, which includes… strange ideology that prevented me from being able to speak…

Like, I could have called him earlier, obviously, and gone, “shit, what the fuck?” But the YOU CREATE YOUR OWN REALITY, EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IS BECAUSE YOU WANT IT TO HAPPEN, IT’S YOUR CHOICE, YOU DON’T NEED A DOCTOR, I just. That seriously harmed me. The psychic stuff harmed me. That was ill-advised. So I have to go about my day. I mean, in the end, it was revelatory, wasn’t it? I came to, in a sense, work out what I needed to, and sometimes, the shock of that, the utter rejection I feel for the last decade — like JUST reject it — because I was OPERATING unconsciously regardless, not seeing how illogical these directions were. Like this wasn’t going to help me.

So yeah, that’s how I feel right now, like — the whole last decade, in particular, down the toilet, into the trash, and so, I’m in a better place, even if there’s a residual confusion from the last decade — like, I CAN MAKE IT — when that wasn’t my problem, I don’t think, like not believing in myself? I don’t know if these relationship I was in basically drew out… stuff that could be there potentially, sure, but didn’t really have to be. You know what I mean? SO charging in, putting my story out there, I MUST because some man in Beverly Hills REALLY wanted to get involved, but not really, dee dee dee, whatever the fuck this was. I don’t know what to say about the FAME or SUCCESS shadow, like, I just didn’t understand it.

Sure, I wanted to make it, but why this man cockily took a seat — before me as if I had a problem with it, peering back at this guy, wishing I had told him to FUCK OFF DAY ONE, DAY ONE! “I don’t see a problem with it.” AND? Neither did I! Just impulsivity problems, like someone who can’t NOT cross a line? Sounds like his father. If I’m being PSYCHIC about it. Since this man, or this group of MEN, separate sure, believed I was the PSYCHIC of PSYCHICS, and that was — unnecessary. Had a weird decade. So now, I’m just seeking stability, financial security, sure, seeking to know what me gifts actually are, skills.

People get into abusive relationships, people go through all sorts of things. He just kept going, empowerment, compassion. Like be kind to myself, but it’s hard sometimes because I feel so stupid. I felt so stupid. Like I wasted my young years on ideological nerds. This was my focus. And psychedelics, over here? This person? Now I have a much more well rounded… like i’ll stick to this aspect of my psychology, which exists, needed to be cultivated — making friends, not getting sucked into these weird corners… keeping everything at the APPROPRIATE DISTANCE, yes. So — I don’t miss these people, that’s not what that is, it’s a “I wish I never met you.” So that’s that, that’s what that was.

France was always going to be there, if you would, I’m 39, and coming to understand how long life can be. I could have moved there at ANY time. Again, I had a strange neurological event, which influenced my decision. And I said to him, look, I’m going to digest our most recent talk, and in some time, you might hear from me again, and we can keep talking a little, since I’m just seeking support around this questioning. Has anyone ever reported neurological events? Stuff like that. I made two life decisions, around a couple of experiences I couldn’t explain, where my perception of time, changed. I happened to be in NYC and Paris, at the time.

“I don’t want to be having this convo with you,” but I always feel better when I speak to him, specifically, it’s really true. I mean, my mother was insane, sexually unhinged, I mean, and my father was this hazy figure, and now, I’m contending with what happened, and I can’t really change WHO got wrapped up in that process, who INFLUENCED the direction I went down, the ingredients that were at play. What we know is, I started writing (this guru, yikes) was involved, unfortunately, actually, but I still came to realize what happened, not that I’m speaking about new memories… so I was able to ground, with someone who understands what complexity is.

He was funny, “when you say he was a threat to you? What do you mean?” He asked me. “Did she accuse him of being sexually abusive?” And I said, “yes, sorry, that’s me trying to make it palatable for the world,” and he nodded. Just because it’s such a sensitive subject, and I’m so sensitive to triggers, like I don’t want to use the terms, so he just pointed that out. I don’t want to talk about it, you know, I think, with my closer friends, that it’s hard having gone through a totally confusing experience… because everyone thinks they know what mental health is.

Psychosis? I mean. No one asked me, what did you go through exactly? I was struggling sensationally. I don’t know what the body of these events are, if you would. But I was struggling sensationally, and severely too. It’s just, the mind attempts to WRAP UP, explain, manipulate, even, “oh that’s because this that…” and I’ve gotten over the complications I’ve felt from NOT BEING ABLE TO TALK ABOUT IT without SOME WISEMAN trying to TALK TO ME through YOU, th person in front of me, and they’re uncomfortable, unable to handle it, trying to be supportive, and I need to — just let it go. I’m not going to get what I seek, which is more, what he’s for. He’s a trained professional. He’s spoken to hundreds of people. He gets it. He gets it’s not the easiest subject.

I think, the fact that I was so young, shocked me so deeply, that in speaking to people about it, the fact that they don’t seem to register that is strange. Like, Jesus Christ, if my friend told me that, Jesus. That’s insane. I’m blown away with her. I would be the friend checking in, “how did it go?” Okay. Seems to be that complicated. Like he’s spoken to x, y, z, but at least I’m feeling better about the whole thing. “It was insane to begin with…” right? I’m trying to be the friend I don’t have.

“What do you want to do now?”

Recognize my life. If I think about the guru, it’s abyss, heartache, regret, rejection. If I think about the plant people, it’s — a no. I can’t speak, like I know people who didn’t have ambitious goals, they weren’t looking to change the world, or have a career, as a lawyer, or something like that. My one friend has had a career in restaurants, bars, and she’s happy, fine, she wasn’t someone (I guess? I don’t know) who inspired some people to WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE… go insane. Jesus!

Okay, looking at KERI RUSSELL on stage, OKAY, I could become someone… laughing. Vaguely in entertainment or storytelling. I just feel the weight of having made choices that have left me, temporarily, hopefully, without a sense of purpose, meaning, or a sense of having built a career, built anything, really, as I went through a break down, regardless. And now, I’m feeling the pain, momentarily, of not realizing how unsatisfying my choices were, and not knowing what I seek to do…

SURE I was CARL JUNG to the guru, which would probably — Jim would probably just continue on the line of thought he was on, leaving that aside, because this guy was so strangely obsessed with psychology, but not in a benign direction. SURE I was REPRESSED, that was his feedback at the end of an experience when he had no idea IN THE REAL what it was. “IT WAS A THERAPEUTIC EVENT.” Okay??? But he ACTS as if he’s just some WIZARD OF OZ not doing anything on the phone. There might have been revelation, realizations, but I went through a break down… could have been a clusterfuck. Which it was. I had a rude awakening for sure, it seems.

So now, I’ll allow myself to feel better, you know, I mean, I don’t know how these events work, but I went through something and got to the other side without any assistance whatsoever. I feel as though I saw… sides of this world, of people, that broke my heart, because it made me aware of the obstacles people might have, just because they don’t have CLEAN, support, or people who can be real. I mean.

So I’m off, I’m meeting a new friend today, I am dealing with wanting to never write again. Never again… that decade most certainly killed it. Dead. When you just go, hey, wanna write, and you got MEN — OOOOOO rushing in… like, what the fuck? Just because YOU weren’t geared correctly, like now, it wouldn’t even happen. I’m chill, thanks. No interest in x, y, z. That took my life thus far, and a truly painful experience, even so disrespectful, I can’t quite stomach it, but that was the road, and the fact that I was pretty to thse people, or something, it makes me so sad.

Anyhoo, the lawyer and I are going to a concert, life goes on. I wouldn’t chose vulnerability. No in my life. I wouldn’t suggest it. It’s just… a trait that can attract predators. Predatorial energy. Stuff that might not help though it appears sparkly. I would not chose touching people. Not unless you’re in a profession, context, where that has structure around it. I would not be open, nope, just like the rest of the world. People don’t tend to OPEN UP. They tend to remain reserved, and write songs at the juncture that someone has inspired them to take down their walls. So, X.

From a Jesus perspective: they know not what they do.

So thanks for making me feel, as a woman, like I deserved that… as a person too, but these were all men. Like, what woman wouldn’t be insulted if someone said, “in the 15th century, you’d be the one to speak to animals.” Be real, that’s an insulting comment to make. Piece of shit. Just unconscious gears. And in this case, that was severe, the road I went down that broke me down. And all I had to do was keep my mouth shut. “Hm?” Dave Chappelle inspired. “Me? Who? Writing? No no, engineer. Yeah, yeah yeah, just a company on the west coast, prefer not to speak about it.”

“Who? Teacher, yeah, 5 year olds.”

“Hm? NOPE NO ASPIRATIONS AT ALL TO MAKE IT…”

“WHAT? Writing? Nothing, just a tale about some far off land where there’s some battle happening between the Cumlots and Dodoberries, a couple of warring supernatural families who will discover that they are actually related, which will complicate the situation, and they will… it’s really about politics, you know, it’s really about the interconnectedness of us…” just something so far away from myself.

“Hm???”

“Who’s Barbara Harris?” I had TO WATCH OUT at every turn in the USA. “No thanks!!” Just — “um, I’m just a girl who needs a job, maybe I should reach for something, I don’t know, but I tried,” and that’s what I got. “HMMMM???”

“Nope, just going out with friends, you know, trying to find a man, a job,” that’s where I am now. THE CHEST OUT GURU of MAKING IT… that was — horrific. Just horrific. I’m swirling my hands around my figure in rehearsal rooms, coming up with dances with wolves for the molester at the door, with a family of sports stars behind me, Brazilian and Jewish, powerful — can I just put on a show? I suppose I’d like to make it in some capacity, but that was…a lot of what I didn’t need.

Nor did I want that, really, I don’t know. Even writing on this blog, the experience I’m trying to work through, is to let go of this obsessive, I don’t know, this guru I met… like go away. I post on social media, more so because I was — I felt like I went down a direction that didn’t even produce anything. I didn’t want this story to rule my life, quite frankly. So I wish I never spoke about it, even tried to write about it, it didn’t seem to bring out the best in people.

And if it turns out, that the guru was in love with me… in some capacity? Or was? Not really understanding his play at all. And today, I would rip him a new asshole, which he knows, at step one, so he’s just someone who wanted to exert influence on someone. Because if he thinks that was going to help me? I really don’t get it.

He was the ALMIGHTY David. A man of genius. Or else WHY would he have crossed a line? To my Aunt Jane, “men.” Men do that. they disrespect women, can. Which is what he did, though he felt, after meeting me ONCE, it was justified because HE WAS WHO HE WAS. So I slap him across the face from the human heart — mine. Fuck off.

I’m off today, feeling supported by that specialist, feeling like I keep letting it all go, and trying not to give up, exactly, but coming into a new world where these dynamics and relationships don’t exist. Not anymore. You may believe in what you believe, I will believe in what I believe. I will emerge a soldier angel in the new Terminator — one focus, one objective — big guns. Tight clothing. “Get the boy.” Through time, through space, I’m running through it all, flying through the air thanks to a stunt double, I’m someone who inspired this thought in real life. Psychic, gifted, supernatural… able to download INFORMATION from other times. I will emerge Professor X’s protegee. Yes, I can become all these things and more in my one woman show. Look, I was wandering the streets, homeless, even, to come to understand, hear, Professor X. My psychicness, right? was a problem, even. It prevented me from building a real life. That works in X-Men. A new character…

Will rise and go on a journey to become, yes, inspired by Barbara Harris. I’ll have moments where I get shy, showing people what I can do. lol. Professor X will provide me the paternal support, understanding, and a helmet, of course, or some tool to help me focus. “Thank you.” And it will be full of meaning. Magneto will try and steal me, of course, something. I’ll make some classical speech about what it means to be boundless, something. Rising against the darkness in a top hat, something, monocle, where I will begin to train the new crew. “Wiggly that one.”

Is it real? I need to ask the audience that question? Is it true? Am I really an X-Men? Because I was in a sex scandal? But no no no no, nothing to do with it, nothing to do with the psychedelics, nothing. Nope. Just my destiny, to a movie soundtrack…

“Alright let’s begin, probability…” I would stumble over the words, because it is the first time I have ever spoken of the future, why it’s unreliable… but I will reach… and try to navigate this territory… to move faster than they, the forces of darkness. Storm behind me. I will remain one step ahead. Martial arts.

So I can make fun, I guess. I mostly want to meet someone. I want the experience of having met someone that actually loves me, basically. Thanks for the esoteric roller coaster ride. I think I’d like to get satisfied, feeling strange about putting it this way, with just being a person again…? So I want this blog writing to come to an end, because I need to prioritize my time differently, because I have to get out of this restaurant job, which is simply stated, because I don’t want to work in this capacity.

And I want the guru to literally never even be a thought in my mind again. I keep telling myself, alchemize these experiences, though I’m in a bit of a fantasy genre movie mode, where I’m going to want to destroy — and maybe Magneto or Professor X, or Wolverine, most likely, as this concerns pain, will be able to stop me… I don’t know. But I want to destroy, to a clinical degree of precision: every detail, every morsel, to an insane degree of precision. Fire breathing dragon.

This is how I feel currently, and there’s a character and space for it, Star Wars. I’m basically STEPPING onto the moon — peering at that spaceship. Target. So it’s alright, I just give myself the space to feel that way, and keep going. I admit that I just wasn’t expecting to run into those problems, or problems, that would make me question who I am, or what the point of life is, as I came out just very different, and thoughtful about my parents, especially my mother because she was so insane. I was not a plaything. I was a person.

And to be frank, I’m not interested in the wiseman, right now, I had enough of those.

You do not mess with a Neapolitan

When I work at this restaurant, it has nothing to do with them, I can start feeling antsy because I don’t want to be here, as a person. It’s a gaping cry — like why — why did these men come into my life?

What sucks the most, and the experience I had earlier today speaks to some of the stupid cognitive issues I developed because of these Beverly Hills gurus I met. Like, the guru was obsessed with “the future writes the past.” That was terrible. It still is. But the heartbreak I feel is so wrapped up in what happened to my mind, like I just want to cry, though I’ve cried myself out, I’m dry, I’m basically past it, what happened, I’m almost totally over it, I just have tender, aching moments, because I had to go through unreality, or these pointless, useless, relationships to get here that hurt me, you see, they harmed me. They didn’t do me any good. And these men, no offense to myself, but I should have seen the red flags, and I didn’t.

In any case, the lingering headfuck, okay? He’s saying you can download the book that’s already done in the future, the most successful version, even. His brother is giving me channeler tapes, telling me to reach out to my audience, with this visualization via this channeler, and that mental direction was detrimental. Unnecessary. Masterbatory.

I get these funny apparitions like Mr. Norton popping up, the actor, I wrote in my last post, that he then gives me an idea — which is mine, obviously, but it’s the effect these men’s influence had on my life, like they would legitimately tell me, “that’s the energy of Ed Norton,” for real, “that we telepathically communicate,” even, which is really funny, that “you can do that,” sure, I can think, hmmmm, what would Edward Norton say? And maybe that would make me really consider that, and maybe that might give me a strong idea, sure, it’s more the way these thoughts enter my head. Like it’s an external directed way of thinking, you see, that’s the problem I still sometimes have… I could MAKE IT IN SOME CAPACITY, I COULD BE FAMOUS, RICH, (as a writer), but it DIDN’T MATTER WHAT HOW which was… full circle, like why are you here? Why am I here? If you live in some weird full circle of not giving a shit about anything? This guru, man. You know? SO YOU ARE PSYCHIC, ABLE TO TAP INTO THE REAL ENERGY OF NO MATTER WHO IT IS. Edward Norton WANTS you to put on this show, he wants to go see it, “good job,” that’s how these gurus talk, okay? They would say “that’s a good mental activity,” because it “implies a lot.” I have to laugh. They were a touch ridiculous.

So, every now and then, if I’m… just rehearsing, you know, just thinking about a show, very simply, I have this knee-jerk reaction where a thought form will appear giving me information. I’m trying to filter out the, uh, “there’s a FUTURE SPINNING UP,” as the guru called it, “you’re SPINNING IT UP,” all this talk about ENERGY, WAVES, I mean this man was insane. “You’re SPINNING UP ENERGY.” I look back on this relationship 100% appalled. His behavior was — also — totally crazy. That guy totally misread me, manipulated me, with his psychic senses, he acted as if he FELT everything, you see, he had superior feeling senses, supreme. And I fell for it, imagine? Like, why I INSIDE some New Age sci-fi?

I laughed at Mr. Norton appearing as “another idea,” thinking, “yeah,” I mean, I would love to succeed in life, it would be awesome if I put on a show that went well, sure, THAT WELL, and I’m laughing, just laughing at Mr. Norton… I’d love him to be there, sure, and I’m laughing. It’s the way that these guru’s ideas stimulated my mind… like the DOWNLOAD the future, DOWNLOAD the information, reach out to your audience, energetically… this was a goddamn mess. Jesus Christ, YEAH, why me? Do you think that a girl wants to be treated like that? I was just, I still am, BLOWN AWAY by the last decade.

Even going into performing again, this GURU was a fucking magician, the Wizard of OZ, in wanting to CONCOCT potions, spells, incantations, (in FEELING, for sure), that I could be LADY GAGA, a STAR, MADONNA level, which is — cool and all, that he FELT THAT WAY ABOUT ME, I’M JUST AWARE THAT A BOY (in a man’s body?) developed a bizarre crush on me? I do not know. But WHY tthis man got into my PERSONAL AFFAIRS day ONE? W hy this man inserted himself into my life as the catepillar from Alice in Wonderland, as he weirdly pointed at me across his living room — I do not know. I’m looking back at this like, “no no no no, asshole, no.” He pointed to me — “KNOOOOOOW what do you wanna KNOOOOOOOWWWW” this Hollywood screenwriter. I mean, really? “Life is not what you wanna DOOOOOO,” this man acted like a guru. He sounded and acted also like the catepillar from Alice in Wonderland. “What do you wanna knooooowwww…” shaking his pointer finger at me.

And, like, I look back at myself — like, WTF? WHAT are you doing getting closer to this person, you complete moron, but I was struck. I was stuck on a line, where I didn’t know why people spoke to me in the way that they did… like why, does this, in a sense, keep happening. BECAUSE I had this stupid story, and a pretty face, a type, even, I guess, who was vulnerable around THAT STORY — you pieces of shit. Not everyone ACTS that way with me, you know? But man, I hated this story so much, and I wish I flushed it down the toilet — like no, here is psychic fire, the divine kind, as the guru believes I am “divinely inspired,” my birth was DIVINE, yes, literally, because — wait for it — “I was born to parents who weren’t there.” That was a piece of feedback this lunatic gave me when he read one of my drafts… a period in time that’s too horrific, when this guru decided to mentor my drafts. NOPE — psychic fire, should have NEVER gotten there, with this person, no. This person at STEP ONE was a NO. So psychic fire, right now, sorry I have to laugh, it’s blazing across the psycho spiritual plane that we all can meet and greet on, “things work different there,” you see what I mean? The collective, I suppose. I’m shooting psychic fire, (Obama is laughing), at the guru — final showdown. I hated this story because it affected people — fuck you. Go get your “fill”—elsewhere.

And that’s all I had to say.

But I couldn’t fucking think thanks to this terrible relationship with this guru. Terrible. This isn’t a, uh, I miss any times between us, that was a, uh, that’s a red flag. Why am I discussing my “pain” with you night two, like, “I can feel your pain,” this emotional manipulator asshole. It’s called vulnerability, douchebag, meaning, you’re confusing vulnerability for pain. You don’t know what that is, apparently, as in, I can’t help if that story affected me, you piece of shit. I have my moments, with this GUY, with this GUY, I want to RISE — I want to SHOOT (the ghost of Barbara Harris really cracking up ) — lampoons through psycho spiritual plane — hooks, I’m reaching out to the celebrities on the psycho spiritual plane — HELP ME GET TO YOUR LIVING ROOM SO I CAN CHEW THIS MOTHER FUCKER OUT. Please. ON National TV. NETFLIX. I desire, deeply, to say these words: “do not fuck with a Neapolitan, YOU SEE? You DO NOT, Sorrentino, yes, the FILMMAKER, he’s already o fan. Sorrentino is going to recognize me, you see, as a Neapolitan. “This MAN fucked with a Neapolitan.” There’s only one way that’s going to go: BLOW.

“Vesuvius is my father.”

Touch the ground. Rise again.

“Vesuvius is my father.” This is what we believe, in Naples. This is not a volcano, cosmic force, fire god, it’s Dad. So, you know, I’ve had my moments… where I’m making fun of this TV SHOW called looney tunes I was in for way too long, too many seasons, it deserved to get cut. Sometimes — I want to USE these magical powers that they say exists, all the same, like LAMPOONING — a message to Kim Kardashian, “HELP me, HELP Me get to you…give me the information…” meaning, “RELAY BACK the NETFLIX special you’re watching in that future BACK TO ME…” you see what I mean? About the guru’s logic? I need YOU to WATCH this Netflix special, I’m not asking to meet you, no worries there, I’m ASKING you, Kim Kardashian, in the future, all futures, but specifically the FUTURE in which you’re jazzed about checking out my NETFLIX show, you’re going to sit down, and it’s going to make you laugh from beginning to end, you’re really enjoying it. I might get a call from Tom Cruise, congratulatory, simply. “That was funny.” This is the FUTURE the guru believed I could CONJURE, SPIN UP, and I want — VERY DEEPLY to get there, you see. So I can SAY these words.

“You do NOT FUCK with a NEAPOLITAN.”

So, like, I have my moments of wanting to use his techniques to get THERE. WTF? I needed the GHOST of a goddamn actress to help me through this — thank God a actress was haunting me. Anyway, jokes aside, I still battle with my own mind, I’m still reprogramming, and what sucks, what really sucks, is that I have — still, people who cycle through m mind now when I think, that’s it, when I think, I have whoever these audience members are… cycling through my head… like the future writes the past, it’s changed how I think. I’m still — letting that change. It’s not always like that, but these gurus really fucked me up. That really fucked me up. The psychic period fucked me up. I got fucked up. And do I hope that… thse words lead me somewhere, yes, I do.

Again, Sorrentino, paging Sorrentino on the psychic spiritual plane — and to Sorrentino, this will make him laugh, because in Naples, the imagination is a real place. The Neapolitans haven’t lost the ancient intuitive systems of functioning. They saw “sparkles” for real around me, “there are sparkles around you,” they are super superstitious, they’re hilarious, everyone has seen the devil, yes, in Naples, everyone, but this messed with my mind. So — I’m still deprogramming. I have to unlearn everything I learned. No thanks. That was a horror show. So I can’t even deal with any of it. I can’t deal with positively ideating, hypnosis, this was not my problem. Not at all.

I keep having these moments where I touch my heart, like, I hope that I’ll figure it out, that I take a path with abundance in it, sure, that I’ll succeed, sure. Especially after that. Just for the Netflix special that KIM KARDASHIAN Is watching. Not only is she watching, no, she’s watching in every possible iteration that my Netflix special could become. I need her to SEND ME specifically the COMEDY ROUTINE I am doing that is making her LAUGH really hard, tune in, keep watching. I need Dave Chappelle on that channel, yes. I need… going down the line… these people watching me, most certainly. “I MEAN WHAT I SAY.”

“Do not MESS with a Neapolitan.”

They will do whatever will be necessary… to LAND ON NETFLIX, yes. TO CALL YOU OUT ON THE PUBLIC SQUARE. You are in MY TERRITORY. This is where we come alive. A NEAPOLITAN is ALWAYS ON STAGE, hear. So again, I cycle through these moments, and I hope I’ll get there, what can I tell you? With the ghost of Barbara Harris, a woman who could CONVINCE you, who could play a character from the afterlife, that’s a believable character that she could play, and it was funny. I don’t know what that means, but I’m just joking around… I would say she was a highlight from this decade, but I don’t know what yet… I’m mostly joking, on that one, that’s more — a response to the guru’s comment that “the line between life and death is arbitrary.” Which, I don’t evne know how to tackle it, I need to talk to a Neapolitan. I don’t know if that kind of thinking is a GOOD SIGN. A sign of health. You want the line between life and death to have reality to it, in that, DEATH is real. Sure, there might be an other side, the underworld, to us, yes, it’s just over there. The entrance to the underworld is in Naples, by the way, it’s still there.

I don’t know, that was part of the psychic stuff that messed with me, or that I had problems with, so “the ghost of Barbara Harris” who is skilled at skating this line, expertly, um, I have to make fun of it, a little, punch some holes in it because — relax. You know? People die. Not to say I myself haven’t had, a couple of mysterious experiences, YES, with Barbara Harris, specifically, too, which was really funny, but I don’t understand the IT’S REALLY HER, this very literal, blocky, like I’m communicating with her, I don’t get that. That belief system, that caused me… problems I didn’t have. I didn’t have these problems. Before. I didn’t need to become psychic, Professor X’s protegee. I suppose it would be COOL, it would be, if I could PLAY that character in X-MEN, yes. That would be fun. But that’s about it. It would be FUN to PLAY that character. To wear a monocle, sure, sizing you up, a psychic. I need to focus my psychic eye, you see, I need a lens. “Remember me.” That’s the response. If it turns out that — KIM KARDASHIAN will INDEED be watching me on NETFLIX, this special, in the future, I will address that onstage, in the moment, and I’m going to just say, um, “it worked.” I DUG DEEPER, REACHED extremely CLEARLY into this future, and I made an alliance with KIM KARDASHIAN, CEO OF SKIMS, on the psycho spiritual plane. Help me… please… President Barack Obama… listen to this crazy shit this person told me… I wanted to tell him, specifically. If it turns out that I BLEW OUT a fuse, where I’m navigating over Spielberg, just to get to the NETFLIX special, if it turns out it worked, then I will thank everyone for their superhuman assistance on the psycho spiritual plane… that’s according to some belief systems, the other SPACE on which we all meet. We all actually meet one another psychically, that’s what these people believe. That’s just not that useful or fun? Who cares?

I’m telling you — utter exhaustion.

I like the idea of doing a show, or performing again, so I’m trying to trust that through this restabilizing period, like I can make it, but you see, the guru acted as if I didn’t know that, I can’t totally tell why this guru projected that onto me, so I have to take a step back, like, I didn’t need to make that a problem… like you can make it, be successful, at anything, though this was career wise? I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why he felt I had a problem with not knowing I could make it, because I asked if I was a lamborghini chick, because my friend said that, “am I? Really?” The girl in the passenger seat? “It’s YOUR Lamborghini,” no no no. You don’t understand. “If I’m a LAMBORGHINI chick,” and I don’t know it, I need to ADJUST my strategy generally. I need to do a make over, buy different clothes, walk around…yes, hello, (the ghost of Barbara Harris tuning in) “I’m the lamborghini chick, I’m the lamborghini girl, yes, the original one.” in any case, I didn’t need to have additional pressures… like now I HAVE TO MAKE IT — I was writing a book. I wanted to make it, it’s not that, but wow, that was really really complicated.

I don’t have money, I have to start over, and I jsut wish the pictures, or the “audience” cycling through my thoughts, as if you’re reading these words, so to speak, in the future, I just want that cognition to go away. it’s just when I’m thinking out loud, like I’m doing right now, it’s terrible. I just want — I’ve gotten there — that aspect of it to go away. Like, whatever this future is I’m spinning up, just because I didn’t need to think that way, can it go away… I do not want to connect with “audience members…” you see. No one at this NETFLIX reception would SUGGEST doing that. I guess I really absorbed that, I really was vulnerable in a particular way, I just didn’t see this at all.

So hopefully my thoughts will continue to clear… so I can just be a person in the present moment. I’m not internally geared to reach externally… to the future, even, like, I just did not need this shit. That was pretty oppressive.

“The thing is,” if I get to NETFLIX, Sorrentino will say calmly, “the thing is, you messed with a Neapolitan. You pissed off a Neapolitan…” he’s not suggesting that you do that. He’s not going to suggest it. Because — this is the response. Hopefully, it’s well conceived, but this is the response. My cousins would be laughing. It wouldn’t matter if I went DARK for years… like for this one… I’m supernaturally going dark… you will not hear from me for YEARS, but I will blow. Blow big.

In any case, I’m just laughing, and I need to go to bed. I’m talking to this specialist tomrrow, as I’m just seeing a variety of people…to help me through what happened this past decade. So I’ll see what he says, and I’ll take that step by step, as I’m taking the whole thing, and I want to manifest a better job right now… that’s what I’d like to manifest, if you can do that. Sure, I manifest a TV show, but you cannot “clog” the psycho spiritual plane, it just gets confusing. So, I’d like to manifest a better job. To move onto the next in that regard. Where I rehearse in the evenings, weekends, just normal, so I can go out, normally, see shows.

I have absolutely no idea…what the hell I was doing, truly. So now, I’m feeling the consequences of my decisions, in my basic, real life, which sucks, because these men who presented themselves as experts where not at all… not at all… not an expert on how to be me… how to make things happen… what my tastes should be… just, I was better on my own, I didn’t expect to meet these men… that was particular, too, if that had to do with my parents, I don’t know, if I. was really really in the dark, about what happened to me? I don’t know. Is that true? Is everything about your childhood? Should we evolve our thinking, think about it. Evolution. It doesn’t HAVE to be that way, this is the fundamental point I’m trying to make.

No absolutism.

The over identifying everything that happens with your childhood, I mean, I don’t know what to say in my case. Wake up. YOU’RE attracting weird shit, why??? THINK. Say bye bye. Time to evolve. Something’s not working.

So that’s that, LAMPOONING President Barack Obama (Michelle laughing) sending up flares on the psycho spiritual plane — help me get into your TV… start laughing, enjoying my comedy segment, whatever THIS reality is, please help me make it a reality. Thank you. Send me the INFORMATION from that future…. “and then you said…” so I have to clown around now. I have to make fun of it because this guru’s ideology actually affected how I think. So now I gotta just get back to — Maria Mocerino in present time. She’s in present time and she’s taking steps forward — clear steps — and in ten steps, I’ll be ten steps… in a sense, but it’s one, then two, then three, then four — if some BIRD swoops in suddenly with 500k in cash… please do, please deliver this amount to me in cash, for no reason, I do not want to CLOSE that door… as if that thinking even produces the possibility of that arriving, I don’t know. When it came to this person, I wanted to totally debate with this person in public. Like, this sort of thinking… that was so unnecessarily complicated.

That’s it for the evening, maybe there’s some good stuff in here… and please KIM KARDASHIAN. Hold the focus. Help me get to your TV. Sorrentino, please.

Good night.

I'm a ninja, trained by Barbara Harris in 4 days.

This is the vibe. This is the jacket. RAINS. Barbara Harris and I are in these coats this winter. Mortal Kombat. I will own this jacket. I will own it. The last samurai.

I’m sitting in Pain Quotidien on 7th Ave near FIT, because I booked a bunch of rehearsal space at the National Opera Center — they have a Happy Hour special where rehearsal space is like 5 dollars an hour. So I can afford that.

And it’s nice to not rehearse at my house, it’s nice to have a designated space to go and just be. I don’t know what to say, as I wasn’t expecting to feel elated after the first time I’ve rehearsed in like — 20 years. I mean, I was mostly just there, beginning to play around. I was thinking out loud in there, that who cares if you suck? You know what I mean? Who cares? Dare to suck.

I worked on Angelica Leibowitz, of course, thinking I would need to get into costume fast, early, now. I need a cap, I need to exit the confines of who SHE IS actually, as I’m doing something else, also, I’m going to have to find her inside of me. I worked on her etat, or state, in French, not really understanding why people went SO INSANE about Barbara Harris being GIFTED at states, truly. BUT DID SHE KNOW? Amazing predicament, no?

In any case, I began to tackle the beast of her, listened to Lady in Red, thought about her dances in her bedroom, “yeah, Maria, love, Maria, LOVE,” tried to capture that vowel in Portuguese, so it came back. “Love,” nothing but “love, Maria love…” I can’t not laugh when I impersonate her. “MARIA,” her demonic mask, was extremely affective, and it’s working already. Like Tom Cruise said, it just sort of sucks to feel like I have to start crawling at 39, he’s gotta learn how to crawl, then walk, then run, and he surrenders to the fact of it. So I’m learning how to crawl.

I worked on her, Lady in Red, deep and necessary. I worked on her TELLING ME, you see, TELLING ME, what this bitch said, my mother, rape. I have to, at this point, at least, just let it be what it is, just because a white person believes everything south of California is Mexico. So we will let it be. I have to absorb Brazil, again, so I’m going to a Brazilian soiree this weekend, I just gotta absorb. I have to bathe in it.

I started listening to people making fun of Brazilians, how they say things which is basically to add CHATCH-KEY — after every word. “BRAD PITT—CHI CHI” lol. THIS WOMAN — OKAY? — NICE FAKE SMILE on her FACE — took me home. And she’s going to come to LIFE. IN ME. THROUGH ME.

I just felt a bit lost, but you have to search through that part, everyone does, so I decided to sit down and just type a minute. I am in the rehearsal room now. It’s been four months, counting, so I’m at this point, where, for the next two months, I just booked rehearsal space in advance. It’s done. I worked on a MOTH story for next Tuesday. I can do that at home.

I don’t know why I felt Ed Norton energy, and I have to laugh, but he appeared in my mind and told me to start IN SCENE.

I thought, wow, I don’t know WHY Edward Norton is coming to my mind right now with clear direction for me, but it sounded correct. THE POINT is that I make this decision for that guy, I thought. Right right. I’m going to make a sacrifice, right, because that’s the theme of the evening, so I’m going to have to organize the story around the decision I make for this guy, and why. I suppose I don’t have to approach it that way, but I broke out of literality, I started in SCENE, and it made sense as to how that’s going to help me. I’m the only one there, for real, onstage, and I can talk to as many characters as I want, I don’t need to go INSIDE the building, literally, necessarily. I just find it hilarious that the spontaneous thought of Ed Norton brought me so much clarity. I have to laugh. So there you go. Funny thought proess.

“START IN SCENE.”

I’m going to spend a few days preparing the story, and it doesn’t have to be FIVE minutes, either, I’m going to get up there and try to tell a satisfying slice, and I can do it at an open mic if I want to. I’ll keep going, I think, but I’m moving into storytelling land, now, since that’s what I was seeking to explore, whether there’s a show… I can do. I just don’t know what it is yet. It could have elements of comedy. I have to keep figuring out HOW to do it in the comedy space, too. I have to go and see shows now. See one-person shows. It’s the easiest approach at this point. We’ll see.

I’m not trying to decide anything yet, actually, I’m just exploring her, her character, ANGELICA LEIBOWITZ, because she can EXIST on the comedy stage, sure. I even impersonated the Hollywood GURU, so will it be a series of characters? MOMS?

“All my Mothers,” you know what I mean? I don’t know. I’m going to have to explore for a momen and just see what begins to happen and take it from there. Just Angelica Leibowitz, living and breathing in space, turning herself on. “LOVE, Maria, LOVE.” She can’t get over how great sex is, lol. I laughed and cried, no? I remembered that, today, in that rehearsal rom. HOW she said love. Love, love. nothing but love. I’ll probably try a scene where I don’t know HOW to act.

HOW was I supposed to act? You know? HOW? And I’ll explore a scene like that. Was I supposed to be broken? For you? You know what I mean? I’ll just have to keep going, I have a basic block, which is, I haven’t acted in — ever, in Leonardo di Caprio’s mind — or, in a very long time. Sure sure, I did little things here and there, but that’s not acting, to me, sorry. I’ve done a couple things. I’m IN that JACKET, I’m a ninja, not someone who fluffs pullows for a living. No pillow fluffing.

I got a little — wonky — afterwards, walking down the steps, so I wanted to ground and regroup before I moved onto something else at Pain Quotidien, but I feel positive about it. I feel energized. I feel frustrated sometimes when I think about the ROUND and AROUND, the course of my life. How MUCH it hasn’t registered, can’t register to people — that I don’t know if my own father violated me… before I could talk, exactly. That a man, on SKYPE, a sexual trauma specialist, is telling me, “LOOK IN THIS CASE, YOURS,” he’s seeing the possiblities are ENDLESS here. “Your mother was so sexually unhinged…” I mean, I’ll sort through all this, to classical music at Pain Quotidien, but I can’t really handle his comment about 0-4, that there were the years between ZERO and FOUR, so I could have been abused at any point back there. And I’m thinking, people get abused as babies????????? Please! I needed a second. I did. Please. Like, I have to ask him, look, how, um, do you know people who were abused that young? I mean, I don’t know what to do with that.

Anyway, now, looking over here — away from the screen. I’m on the other side of something, I got to the other side. As if I died and I’m still alive. The world looks the same, meaning the basic architecture of it, but it’s not the same world at all. I can’t totally grasp it, explain it, but again, I’ll talk to this specialist tomorrow. I’ll keep talking to him. Even the guru, you see, he should LOOK at himself, as he got his panties in a TWIST over that story, literally, his panties in a twist, so — he exercised a manipulative hand. He did. In all this. I just don’t know what that all means.

Anyway, I understand now how someone could want to murder someone. My parents. I could murder them. Kill. Sure. I’m not going to kill Dr. J, but in a movie I could. I would kill the shit out of this woman. My father — kill. Kill. That’s what that’s like. If that turns out to have been TRUE? And the thing is, okay, right now, no one knows the story, but hopefully I’ll get it published as a book, and I assure you, by the end of that story, you’re not going to know what to do at all because I don’t know WHAT I’m looking at. It’s sick, for sure. But no one reading that story is going to go, “yeah, he didn’t do it,” or something. It was so insane, so I can’t quite understand people’s understanding— because it was that crazy, it can’t be that crazy. So I don’t know what to do with that.

I pray, in a sense, every day that it’s not true, I just don’t know what I went through. That’s all.

I could murder Dr. J, murder Ghomi, murder my father, murder, so I could go there, for sure, at least as a character. No problem. “Mummy.” Even. “Hello MUMMY.”

I’ll have to explore Joker’s daughter, a state, for sure, where the dark becomes good, something, where you might as well put cartoon birds around real people when it comes to this subject. “YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND. I’m SAYING that I do not know if my PARENTS abused me when I was FOUR.” Right now. I’m just trying to get on my feet because I don’t know what happened to me. Like I wasn’t behind the wheel. So that’s shocking, sometimes. But art, you know, I have an outlet, I can explore, the beauty of just giving myself a couple of months is simply that — room to explore. I’ll go to these screenings, (so funny, right?), and I’ll keep navigating and just figuring out who I am, what I’d like to do, and what I can do…

I don’t feel like I’m an impossible person. I don’t think anything is impossible, that’s not how I see things, I just didn’t need the sci-fi shit. Where I’m confused as to why this guru thinks that’s my problem, when I hadn’t even begun. But HE’s a reflection of a basic obstacle, which was the story, my personality, my looks? Can’t totally tell. I went dark, you see, like, nope, nope, in loose pants. I’m staying far far far away — from you. SURE it wasn’t about that, wink, GARY was like, “look weird dudes. YUP, confessing his love, OKAY? Over an I TANYA DVD, but it’s your father,” he cannot KEEP UP. “It’s about THE DISAPPOINTMENT…” and it’s like, WHY AM I HERE? Jesus Christ. Wow, that guy was problematic. That guy had problems. I did, clearly, because I was STUCK, psychologically, like WHY is this happening? WHY does he THINK I don’t think i’m SPECIAL, he kept saying that.

“You’re special, and I intend to keep my perspective…”

It was an I TANYA DVD. That my roommate lost. I’m feeling boyfriend energy, sure, “like who is this guy?” WOW. That’s worse than a woman — MAKING UP that you’re cheating on her based on —nothing. WELL WHEN YOU SAID THIS, no… YOU MEANT… no. WHEN I SAID MY ROOMMATE LOST THE I TANYA DVD, that’s basically it. I was upset, of course, because I didn’t want to lose his goddamn DVD. And he’s looking at me as if I were a TV SHOW.

Most likely, as he confessed his love to me in a strange manner after this while role playing my father…I have no idea what this was, looking back on it, the SUBTEXT might have been: “I’m in love with you, so who gives a SHIT about the I TANYA DVD?” But the moment you say it, the spell, whatever that was, just punctures. It was not real.

Not unless it’s real.

“You cannot disappoint me,” he said so dramatically, “you have my looveeee….”

That was the weirdest exchange I ever had. Well, there was Dr. J, of course. Of course. To classical music, the violins at Au Bon Pain. It should be.

I’m happy that I’m giving myself a chance, a real chance, you never know, it’s really true. And “the unbelievable can happen to you,” you know, so I could take it on tour, Fleabag began as a fringe show, there’s nothing but possiblities, so I’m solid on that one. Sure, you might not hear about the journey, but ONE BIG TOE, right? Kill Bill.

She’s starting with HER TOE. That’s step one.

Anyway, I feel great, now, I got through rehearsal one. I just needed to process through — old stuff. It’s fine, I had a bit of an ENNUI problem, where I could shut down, unconsciously, really unconsciously, just start shut down instead of TURNING ON. That’s fine, that’s just something I need to get over, once you understand what’s actually holding you back, you can deal with it.

And look, I just started, and I’m getting —hey, you’re good, actually, do you want to come in and read a scene? Yeah, obviously. So that’s encouraging, that I am getting a response, immediately, so I’m just going to continue to trust that, I’m going to hopefully see this new friend of mine tomorrow, who wants to make her own work too, so maybe we can align. I want to do 1800-Im-psychic. I want to do the call-in psychic, on call, at all times. LOOK — in line. Staring at glue, just shaking my head, because it’s behind the counter. “You just had sex with a guy, didn’t you?”

OHHHH.

“OH MY GOD, how did you know?”

“I’m psychic, you see.”

“Now you wanna know the future with this dude? Already? Okay.”

“Let me tell you what’s what…” walking out the door.

“It’s not going to go well.”

“Now,” in my ninja jacket, “now what? It’s going to FAIL, END, NOW WHAT?”

“Do you keep going? Will you OPEN,” opening the sliding door, “the possibility that you can take it STEP BY STEP?”

“Yes, yes, I understand, yes yes, I’m sure you heard about me, yes yes, people generally do, have breakthroughs…”

“Just take that… it’s going to go terribly wrong… I want you to… go down that road, and then, call me back, when YOU feel you have the answer it is that you seek…”

How to make money

Alright, alright, alright — feeling good this morning, have a meeting tomorrow about being a radio DJ, sure, there’s no money in it “right now,” but — I’ll ask her how anyone even makes money anymore, to assess, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find voice over work or figure something out. As long as it doesn’t take up that much of my time, that sounds fun, hosting a pop radio hour. I’m looking to go into entertainment in some capacity. I’m trying to keep an open mind.

Now the tough part — looking for jobs this morning, thinking money. What direction am I seeking to go in? Where would I like to end up? In editorial? If that’s what I’d like to do? What do I need to do to get there? When I first started out, I was working for Rogue, which was an interview/PR mag, it’s just, in the end, I didn’t want to be an interviewer. I don’t know what to say.

I think back to these men I got involved with who WANTED TO HELP ME — why? I don’t know. They should check themselves. Jesus Christ, this help shadow, wanting to slap myself (with the ghost of Barbara Harris in a ponytail and bejeweled bra, I Dream of Genie). I really didn’t understand WHY these men wanted to help me that badly. Not to say I wasn’t AMAZING EXTRAORDINARY but…I didn’t DO anything, really. They had feelings for me, about me, I can’t keep up here.

I Dream of Genie Barbara Harris — sultry, hanging out behind me, in these hilarious locations: Carlyle Hotel, Beverly Hills… getting told I could HAVE a lamborghini, I could, on my own, as a writer. Not in entertainment or… not to say I couldn’t write GAME OF THRONES, or something, I really don’t know. I just feel funny, as some pretty girl in a dress, being told that I could MAKE IT in some capacity and it didn’t matter HOW, it didn’t matter. Nothing did.

And the LOOK I give in FRAME at “nothing MATTERS” “STUNNING,” the critics. “SO much GENUINE emotion IN A WORLD IN WHICH NOTHING IS REAL—AMAZING SO TRUE.”

WHY was this necessary?

No writing required. It didn’t MATTER. It JUST doesn’t MATTER. Nothing does.

A conversation with me now, at 39, looking at these men with years ahead of me, would have done me more good than the time I spent with them. “Where do you want to go…?” For real. New Yorker is the mag that everyone says, you know. Like the hypnotherapist SAW me there, okay. Based on psychic feelings. Not to say everyone doesn’t want to end up there, but nothing I did thus far seemed to help me at all. I wasn’t thinking straight.

Now I have to keep applying, but I’m trying to think as to where I’d like to go… I am not a reporter, do I want to be? Just because if I wanted to end up somewhere, I could have thought about the steps I needed to take to get there. That’s what my friend, my French friend, told me to spend some time…reflecting on. Instead of having a “anything can happen” attitude, and thinking about it like, this one writer ended up there when she worked for a small dance mag?

I’m not exactly an editorial writer, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t be, but none of these (besides Rogue) jobs I had were editorial. I mean, Allure, type deal. I’m not a features writer. I don’t have a beat. I just ended up in science, not really wanting to be here, but my attitude, though sweet, was so POSITIVE, you see, that I’m happy wherever I am, but I needed to get over that.

I hated this guru, I don’t care. I unfriended that mother fucker. Real fast. Fuck you.

Let me tell you something — I’m getting UP in your FACE — I’m Neapolitan. Just, I need Benedict Cumberbatch or someone British to BREAK IT DOWN — you don’t PISS OFF A NEAPOLITAN. It’s POLITICALLY unsafe to do. Yes, specifically. These people are INSANE. They revolt, they throw trash cans, they will confront you in PUBLIC with BACK UP, COUSINS. And they’re going to be dancing, at the same time. We’re breaking out into song. We’re putting on a PERFORMANCE most definitely. Don’t mess with a NEAPOLITAN. We follow the siren.

My cousins would be —calm, as I blow up, giving me the space to. Just because that was so crazy, to me. But hopefully you can manifest, I just don’t think I had a problem with it, so I worked out what I needed to.

Psychedelics is a bit more in the health arena, so that’s why I veered over here, not to say the New Yorker didn’t do a piece or three in this domain, but “you need to practice writing” was the worst piece of advice. It did not help me learn how to write a book. The people I worked for, with all due respect, these weren’t writers. I didn’t have an editor, for real. They weren’t seasoned magazine people. I wasn’t learning from anyone, if that makes sense, not to say I need to… I’m supposed to be able to do everything myself, but I gotta align my gears — so I can get a better job.

It’s just, outside of writing books, there’s only so much money I can make. Not to say I can’t start a successful Substack, not to say that I can’t get a TV show, or something, like the possiblities are endless, it’s just that’s confusing.

So, now, I’m trying to go, okay: where do I want to go? What do I need to do to get there? Luckily, a woman I knew, she saw that I was auditioning for Columbia grad, and we’re going to hang out soon. I need girlfriends. I need friends. She wants to make her own work too. Great. Maybe we can support one another. Like, we’ll help film one another. I like my dial in psychic character idea, so that’s it’s own thing.

I’ll see how that goes.

The ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING CAN FALL FROM THE SKY routine, I feel as though I MUST MAKE SURE TO ALLOW THAT TO HAPPEN, so I would like OPRAH to fall from the sky — as she has the power to do — and hand me a golden ticket, literally. “With this ticket, no matter the ATM, you can take out as much money as you want, whenever you want.” It’s all she can do… you know.

I’m trying to bring in opportunities thought wise, I suppose, I just absolutely HATE the GURU I met because why would I live my life in that way? High five Barbara Harris as GENIE. She’s in sunglasses, arms crossed, ready to cross the desert with my future man, a Saudi Prince, since this is what people believed my destiny was. And who knows? Right? Life is long and full of promises. Hm hm, nodding, hm hm, in sunglasses, hm hm, nodding, yeah, “you know, we just understand one another…”

Cut to: we’re moving through an airport, talking to people, and meeting foreign dignitaires, yeah, and we’re waving from private jets. “I’m famished,” with at least 2 large dogs… we’re reading magazines. I’m speaking Chinese, every language fluently, as people expected me to be able to do. I was one of these people who people wanted to… start speaking Chinese, didn’t matter.

This was my destiny — along with — being LADY GAGA is SOME CAPACITY. A star. I could become one. Can you imagine? “DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU DO…” okay. I really don’t know what to say as my interactions with these men were not that helpful. I was just someone who was… beginning to write… and these men weren’t helpful, in that, no offense, but if someone handed me what I wrote to read, I would be having a very honest conversation with that person.

Telling someone to meditate… a book into existence.

“IT’S A PSYCHOLOGICAL OBJECT.”

JOHN MALKOVICH AS THE GURU IS: EXTRAORDINARY, NECESSARY, SUBLIME, TERRIFYING, JOHN MALKOVICH, simply put. “He captures the dark side of the manifestation obsession with the pulsing aching need to become someone for no rhyme or reason…in Beverly Hills…” it’s so deep. “MARIA MOCERINO IS: VULNERABLE STUPID HILARIOUS UNBELIEVABLE,” someone who “DESCENDS TO MADNESS WITH NO ONE AROUND HER WHO CARES. AMAZING. FIVE STARS. THE PLOT TWISTS ARE TO DIE FOR.”

“THIS IS WHY PEOPLE GO TO THE MOVIES.”

I look at this man, now, like why are acting like that? I can’t believe I was there, to be honest with him, someone who wanted to “FEED ME” every week, not someone who was interested in getting to know me, or wanting to be my friend. Strange. He’s like, WHATEVS, cool, yeah, figured, once I was a fucking wreck, “you weren’t fed or bathed…” sure, bye. No followup. Once again the CRITICS: “OMG! THE CHILLING CARELESSNESS OF THIS MAN IS EXTRAORDINARY.”

This man was — chilling. I studied him, as I always do, as a character. I will bring him to life. His haughty, hands behind his back, attitude. “You cannot disappoint me,” he turns to me emotionally, “you have my love,” over an I TANYA DVD.

I was SO confused.

“IT’S THE RELATIONSHIP TO REFLECT ON.”

I’m laughing because “Barbara Harris is what American satire…” is about right now, someone wrote.

But whatever I’m here.

I’m looking at the PDF scam, it’s not a scam, but selling PDFs that put forth a skill I have, or some knowledge I hold, that I could potentially sell. I just don’t know what that is. I’m going to probably start a YouTube channel, for beauty products? I have nice skin. I just got glycerin and put a few drops in water, and I’m trying that, as a moisture sealer, as I read that on Reddit somewhere. I feel like it’s working actually. But I’m going to try a little affliate marketing and see if I can make extra money that way. I say that because if I get a certain number of subscribers, I could add adverts, which makes sense to me.

So today, I have to plan my days off so I can go to the MOTH, Columbia, and all that jazz. I’m going to apply for some jobs. I’m going to see if I can move my romantic date tonight, so I can go to a screening with a friend, as she’s been so nice (a SAG member) in invitng me to screenings. I need to see my model friend, gotta see her, and she reached out to me first—think. I’ll be with the MODELS. Okay? Let the POINT be made. Ridiculous. My Russian mother — AGREES. “Marushka, you MUST KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN.” I have a date with my new actress friend this friday, so I keep growing, I’m doing alright.

I’m going to keep trying to just find an easier income job so I can keep moving out of this restaurant job… there are better ways of making money. I just have to get there.

You build over time. And hopefully, magic pixie dust will fall from the sky, Barbara Harris I Dream of GENIE… breaking out into a little musical number we all want to see… I’ll scream at my friend “oh my God, I got this JOB…” and I’ll take it from there. But I want it to be EXTREMELY clear that I am NOT CLOSING ANY DOORS ANYWHERE ACROSS THE PLANE OF EXISTENCE. I want Obama, to personally deliver TO ME 500k in cash, in a box, no questions. We don’t need to chit chat, it’s a simple exchange. Okay, cool, not investing it in OHM. Thanks……

But I’m holding it together, taking it step by step, as I have to build from the ground up, and no, I did not want to BE here. I hate that guru. But I can move fast, and I feel like I am, and hopefully I took care of what I needed to, so I won’t be attracting strange MALE energy. It just sucks, because I was younger, and that’s what I attracted. Yeah. So. Wasn’t that flattering. I suppose I could see an instance or two — where I just needed to keep things in check. But again, I’m coming to find that being in the driver’s seat — not having these strange helpers — is getting me where I need to go. Like, okay, I have to go to this theater mixer. I have to network. Yes, meet people. I think it’s better to learn on your own.

I just personally think, it’s much better to figure out how life works for you, and I think action shows you the way. I think my mental state is fine. I can’t really get entangled in unconscious drives, or some of this complicated thinking… I came from a background, and that is pretty clear, so I had to work that out, and it was a painful road, in the end, and hopefully now, I’ll create a life that I love.

Just saw a friend, thinking about Hannah Arendt

The woman who truly saved my life, in a real way. I appreciate her work so much because it was shocking, stunning, to see my life thus far through an Arendtian lens. And her work really nurtured me, she, I think, she would have been quite shocked by that premise. So her mother who is — running into church? “Accosting” the priest with her rapes? Every Sunday? This woman tells some hilarious Brazilian woman, which I have to say, because she was, and I have to punch holes in it, for relief, even, she tells her that her father is a child abuser, that he is abusing his child, and so, she agrees to protect her… and this is what happens… because both my parents were mentally ill, I mean, I don’t know where to begin there, I think her question of what happens if someone can’t appear in the world, as that story already wasn’t really SEEN, literally speaking, really struck me as a profound reason why I chose to live my life in the way that I did up until recently. I went onto a public stage, the comedy stage, partially to address that issue. And I battled with it, I do, I battle with putting myself out there at all, not like I HAVE TO, but I’m grappling with… the decision I made already to do so, not knowing WHAT I was coming up with… so I’m making peace with that, because it was a story that silenced people. And this Hollywood guru I met is calling me Lady Gaga, and shit, like I could MAKE it, in the world, for… a sex scandal? How strange. He didn’t HEAR what I was saying.

I had to laugh and insert COPS, sure sure, when reality comes knocking, these people, everything illegal that was happening, depending, becomes very clear. You know? A sex scandal, which I say because it was whole orchestration, with breasts at her door, I just — ended up swerving through this, and somehow thrusted myself forward into the seat of motherhood or parenthood — because it was psychologically necessary, in some capacity. Forget the wiseman. If anyone put my child in these circumstances, I would — that would be a dark day for you. Any child. I suppose when I was young, I thought, oh my God, what do children go through? So I don’t know what to say about that, but I had to stay focused, and just go, I had to totally destroy the premise, destory any concept that this was my fault in any capacity, that I should be grateful for this? That I should put up with any rudness at all, especially from Angelica. Okay, that was revelatory for sure, Arendt isn’t going to paint my pretty pictures around whether or not creulty exists, okay? She would never think that I was TRYING to compare to Nazism, just please. Just because people projected SO MUCH emotion onto me, just because the story was, what it was. I rejected sympathy, even, like go eslewhere.

So I’m home. I went to Times Square to see my old friend, male, at a diner. He told me to sit down, to talk with him, that he was going through a lot himself, that he wanted to be there for me, and I think I’m seeking real friendship, exchange, because the relationships I got into this past decade was bizarre, to say the least. Which he knows. And he spoke a while, I was happy to hear from him, and observe a person who was structurally sound, even if he went through a divorce, and his father just died, and he’s come to find that life totally changed, for him, so life is life. He didn’t shut me down. Jesus. He held my hand, he was there for me, and he both heard me and he also sought to relate, because the impulse, the natural empathetic response is to not allow someone to differientate themselves too much, when I do not know if my parents abused me, so the devastation I feel, or can feel, honestly doesn’t make me feel like relating.. so I can’t relate right now, only continue looking forward, though looking back, what a shock. A real shock. I suppose he was saying, there are “things he couldn’t do” back then, too, so he just wants me to be kind to myself. He has a career, money, kids, but he was so hurt by his wife, and he wonders why she did that to him, but he, I guess, doesn’t necessarily feel happier. I don’t know what to say, because I went through a whole world loss. Where I had to totally start over. What I want to feel NOW is fulfillment, gratitude, success, a house, a life that I recognize as mine. We’re both in sensitive places, so — I saw an old friend, one that didn’t really try to manhandle me, but tried to hold a space with me, and we do the best we can.

But yeah, devastated and what are you even supposed to say? With these idiot gurus, I mean, my friend, he’s a Tony nominee, he did not get wrapped up in this bullshit, I was vulnerable in a way. I spoke to him the most in college about that story, and it didn’t make sense, and it probably makes even less sense, just going through the pieces with him that were so vague and unclear, and they are clear now, and I don’t know if he’s geared to think about psychology, like when he’s talking to me, I’m literally seeing structure inside his eyes, like dividing, still intact, structure. I don’t know if he thinks like that, I do, I’m seeing evolution, someone who also, I think, at least, was trying to say, that he pursued worldly classic objectives: family, career, and he’s dealing with the meaning of it all, too, and I feel him, in that regard, and I can’t put my finger on it, exactly, but I’m reaching for — exactly I want. I don’t know what that means, but we’ll check in. Life is long, can be. He was very gentle with me, and I can’t really do that again. I can’t even talk about it. I don’t want this to be true, obviously, and all I can do is going down a list, see some specialists, and cross possiblities, and keep moving on. Hopefully, I don’t know what to say, because I thought — get on stage, make something with it, or figure out something to do with it, and I just have to keep detaching from a world that doesn’t believe I can, should, as that aspect of my thinking, like I should perform, or something, I don’t know, has caused me so much distress, that I’m full of rage, seeking to blast this out.

I don’t know what that means… but I just got an invite from Columbia to participate in a reading, so I’m going. I gotta keep going. I just don’t want to do that again. I’m seeking, that a fundamental difference be respected, that I don’t know if my parents abused me, sexually. I see ILLNESS, yes, but what the fuck even was that? Maybe I’ll get to a place where I’ll be able to be open to relating to larger mythic structuring, that we all go through an awakening, in a sense, as we continue to live our lives, it’s just, the content itself, is so disturbing to me, that I can’t go there. All I see right now, are crazy parents, and a FOUR YEAR OLD. When I get into that space, like I want to rip someone’s FACE OFF. I do not want a wiseman, you know what I mean?

My cousins, in Naples, I was amazed to discover, that my cousin, my age, which at the time was thirty years old, got together with his friends, his group of guy friends, to “cry together…” And I looked at him as if he had just thrown WATER in my face! “WHAT?” Yeah, nonchalantly, no issue with it, when one of them breaks up with a person, they get together, as men, and cry with one another. I was blown away. And they didn’t GET IT, like do you have balls? And at that point, it was two weeks into Christmas at least, I was surrounded by Christmas decorations at the Medici Castle, even, and I — BLEW. NO! And in Naples, you can, you can BLOW. I needed to give a SPEECH! The man ASKED ME if I had BALLS? Crying takes BALLS?

“Do men not cry together in America?”

I almost slammed this mother fucker Dino against the wall, who innocently asked me that question. “Are you for REAL?” The rage was real, the Christmas story developing, it was a miracle. It was a miracle. And I said it, at the Medici Castle. You know, when you just need to hold someone, because that, I’m sorry, it was a long time ago, it might have been a topsy twervy ride, but I just needed someone who could really receive that, and he did. At least. I think, generally, he’s trying to open up to new possiblities, I think trying to learn, and trying to move on himself. I didn’t get the impression that he himself was trying to ACT HAPPY, like he’s SUPER SUPER HAPPY, you know what I mean? So I’ll get out of that spot, and I’ll get into a rehearsal room tomorrow and begin becoming Angelica Leibowitz, as was my destiny. I’m laughing. I’m going to try. I might end up somewhere less autobiographical, I don’t know. I said I’m seeking a break, a big break, yes, in some capacity, I need my life to change… I need progress, real progress.

I met a guy. Just starting seeing someone. And that was the relationship, like, my friend, let’s call him Wilbur, which would make him laugh, though he sort of reminds of that Jamie, I think his name is, the hypnotherapist on social media who is dating Jennifer Aniston, though I don’t keep up with that stuff, but I had come into contact with him before that. He reminded me, not look wise, but energy wise of him. He’s not in that line of work. He’s a producer. And he’s got a theater, shows, he’s someone who’s done very well, I think. I admire him. I’ll go see the latest show, this is the direction I’d like to go in, simply. So it will be fun to check out what is going on, what he’s doing. You know, basic. The rest, the beauty of it, is, you just do what you do, and you take it from there, you allow what you’re doing to speak for itself. So, I’m going to work on things, and see what I can do, want to do, and hopefully, I’ll come to find that my life could look truly different, that I can — buy a house, have a career, I made my choices, and be able to say: wow, I didn’t even think that was possible, so — and I found purpose, success in it, though I still feel confused, because no one was hearing what I was saying. “I was in a sex scandal,” hands, shrug, I mean, “you could be famous…” hm? Or, was that because I was heautiful, talented, KIND, which one was it? I couldn’t evn FOLLOW the last ten years.

“OKAY.”

But at least I’m seeing creativity, in that, maybe I’ll try speaking in an accent, finding an accent to talk to you with, a totally foreign funny character, you know what I mean? I’m not necessarily trying to pretend I’m where I want to be, but I’m working with my experience to make something out of it, trying to, and I can’t speak to how real I feel, even speaking to him, and having someone else really take that in, what the story actually was, how strange it was, and the pockets of nonsense, where there is no sense, which I get frustrated with, like, I’m talking about not knowing whether my father abused me, please. Or someone, did, please. Someone telling me that I couldn’t forget that there were the ages between 0 and 4… peering at this man… needing Dave Chappelle, yes, the comedian…to receive that.

“I’m sorry?”

Not to help me make sense of it, but to simply hear… as a real thing someone told me.

“There were the ages of 0 to 4,” and in his mind, in my case, “the possiblities were wide,” that’s what he said. I could have been abused anywhere, beginning at the age of zero. “Okay.” Sure. I’m going to keep moving towards these lighter pleasing ways of dealing with it, which right now is presenting it — and I’ll take it from there. Hopefully, I worked out what I needed to, so I should see results in my life…but that requires a certain degree of clarity, simply thinking, such as: WHERE do you want to go? When it came to writing as a job, I didn’t think about that, as I was somewhat directionless, trying to take opportunities as they came in, so not in a position of pursuit, which I found, in my case, didn’t bring me anywhere… though yes, I am here, believing I should probably wear Alice and Wonderland dress… like, hello… I am here! Laughing. I came from Wonderland. My mother’s name is Joy.

So that will take care of itself.

I feel better now that I sort of wrote about that, as it’s better to just not talk about, but I suppose I admitted that I felt totally devastated, by the thought, looking at my parents, wanting to slaughter them, what the fuck was that? Maybe that was positive, and at least, again, I wasn’t shut down, manipulated, or looked through… as if what I said wasn’t real… and I don’t know about what it means to make a big deal out of nothing, but that’s a big deal, so dunno what to do about it, because “dancing strangely on stage,” I have to be okay, swimming, and also, moving like the Matrix, need to GO through it. Whatever this is, lol. Now I am happy because I’m thinking about ways to treat it, and move through it perhaps in a theatrical context, and so, I’m just going to take a deep breath, and keep going.

I’m trying to trust my feeling, my inner compass, having just come out of a decade of truly truly confusing factors I did not need, like psychedelics, psychicness, manifestation, or just strange relationships… the HELP thing, what a SHADOW that was. The story just brought me shit I did not need. Was I fed? Like, please, dude, Hollywood guru, why are you trying to convince me, indirectly, that I wasn’t FED as a young child? Will you please… go away? I did not need some wannabee guru.

I can clearly see my decision making, most definitely. Like, at step one, what the fuck was I doing there? To me, getting on a public mic, because this is the great clarifier, and SPEAKING about the guru, SPEAKING about the sex scandal, SPEAKING about the shit people really told me, that has become extremely clear in my mind — YOU know that you couldn’t SAY that in PUBLIC. So fuck off. I was trained by the Russians, yes, as a clown for the political arena.

“This is a political figure, first,” she explained with her baller neutrality. “Theater comes LATER,” she put that discrepancy aside, as the real life Andromeda.

My Russian mother, yes, okay? She saw me as a true clown, and a good one, and so, she trained me. I have Russian training, as a clown. She brought me to speak to a Ukranian refugee who had a hallucination on the run from war, she brought pro-Putin supporters into my house with newspapers, once he invaded, and they were on his side, to contend with. Hilarious, because I just went along with all this. Her lover, soul mate, which turned out to be my age, younger than she was, was a thief, a Robin Hood, Aladdin, Russian, so he laughed at that when I showed him these motion pictures, “look it’s you…” So I went on a particular journey with these people, where I befriended him, instead of turning him in, once change began to stir his pot… he’s going to leave that profession behind, the year I was invaded by the Russians. “Love,” Sonya is telling me, one evening, as if she were in a movie, she was so moving, she spoke of love, the force, that was the Russian way, to her. A martial artist, this woman, truly. She believe this was the way of a warrior, the way… love. Beautiful speeches. “We will not fight the next war…with weapons,” no, she dismissed this quietly, even, across the table, with her arms crossed over her chest, “but with love…” and what war? What did this pertain to? I called her “an oracle,” because she could… divinate, but we could talk… through my story… or she listened to me, as well, struggle personally, as I opened up to her, as we decided together that we would have an exchange, where I would listen to her, her wisdom, and she would open up to me, though she was a mother, older than me, so we had an age and experience gap, that’s all. She said, “you are an emotional being,” back then.

“Be cool, be neutral,” which was funny, “this is not without feeling,” and she made sure the difference was clear, “okay?” She could say “okay…” very instructionally, Marushka, as she called me that, and she was a maternal force, a maternal type, who was emotionally clean, grounded, and poised, so she would look at me, and it always made me laugh, when I would be… acting… out? She’s Russian. I laughed. “You are an emotional being,” that’s all she had to say. And I thought about America versus Russia. So we formed a little alliance, and she’d get sweet and clairvoyant about it, “with love,” this was her point. Love. And hilariously, truly, she believed in me as a clown, a true clown. A Russian knows what that is. I laughed.

“You do not take advantage of a clown,” no no, she shook her head. “You’re not supposed to do that,” she said, “it’s sacrireligious…” a clown is to be respected, so she respected me as one, I guess, as she started treating me as if I were important politically, so she brought me to the Ukrainian refugee, she brought me to pro-Putin supporters, she presented me the current state of GEOPOLITICS, she’s from Kazakstan, she made sure it was very clear, that is geopolitics, and these people all exist, so what will you do? And with the pro-Putin supporters, I sat there as they poured at me with their magazines (lol, Sonya, who also looked like a panther, watching me… ) and what I said, simply, in the end, as Sonya had to translate everything was very simple — do you believe in the transference of power?

Meaning, do you believe a person, a leader should step down… and pass it on… that’s it, that’s my only question here… is it good?

She said “A clown was very important,” and I asked, “why?” She said, “because you will bring the message to the people in their language.” I laughed, I did. So I found myself in this situation, lol.

A totally amazing story, hilarious. It sounds like a fiction, or that it could be, it sounds like a movie, truly. Like, the Joker’s Daughter — is going to be trained by the Russians, right? Of course. Even. She’s coming back with BRATAN, the thief, as her right hand man, though he disappears, and reappears. Right? I’m going BACK whatever that means, I’ll figure out the details later. But there’s a real idea there, in the Joker universe, funny enough, so we’ll see what happens.

Here’s the basic point. Here comes Hannah Arendt. “You are not a clown.”

I could become a clown, in a sense, professionally, but I am not a clown. I ended up identifying with that archetype very deeply for a while, which had to be corrected. I came from a background, my mother alone was super crazy, man, that woman was insane. But hopefully it will end up being a good story, so — it can just be what it is. I just wouldn’t DO this again, type deal. But I found myself in — a place, with people, in a position that I felt at that time compelled to pursue, and I hope I’m right. Just because Bratan, this thief, in particular, he was practically Biblical… picturing him running through the trees in a forest, as he crossed all of Europe on foot. A boy who had suffered a personal tragedy. A boy on the fringes, a thief, a good man. Maybe even extraordinary. Like, he’s going to the most dangerous gang’s hide out?

In Paris?

HUH?

In my kitchen the warmest shade of yellow, as I had picked out the color, specially, like I spoke about this shade of yellow for two hours at the “best paint store” in my neighborhood… these two frenchmen, they did not disappoint, really, because I walked into THEIR shop, and who are you? I need yellow, and they were like what kind of description is that? There are so many yellows… so many YELLOWS… and so, two hours, we discussed this yellow to a degree of depth that I wanted, this is what I wanted, and so, it was like an oil painting at night but pure, so I put a yellow lamp and shade, and everyone looked like a painting, just glowed, it was the warmest shade of yellow but NOT heavy, “no,” they dismissed that, these man at the paint store. “It would never be.” And my friend was there, so she can attest, as she cracked up at this exchange. We discussed how it would look in the morning, “in the afternoon,” I can picture her filling in, as she was my friend, so she’s supportive. It would follow the day to the point of “sublime,” it would be the most perfect yellow. And so, it was. Sonya looked stunning in it across my kitchen table, with her fiery green eyes, Asiatique, dark hair, she was lithe and lethal..

She told me that he was telling this gang to stop, what? I had heard of them because they had spilled above ground, they were crossing a line, murdering, raping, brutal. So he, she explained, was like “the underground justice keeper,” like, are you for real? “Yes, they have their own rules,” he explained to her. She had no idea what this world was, she wasn’t from the streets. And so, if justice needs a little maintenance underground, within that group, he handles it. “How is he…?”

“He’s,” simply, “going to tell them that they must stop.”

I nodded.

Someone else, as I asked around a bit, confirmed that these disputes, though I don’t know what to say, the police sometimes just let’s them handle it. Uh huh.

I was sitting there like, what? “This is what this guy is doing?”

That was the year I was invaded by the Russians.